Death and Sake
by Wyrvel
Summary: In the Wakahisa orphanage of Konoha, a seven-year-old boy who has lost his memories appears with aspirations to be a ninja. Problem is, 'Natsume' isn't seven, a boy, or even from this dimension. (Self-Insert OC fic, heavily OC-centric, no pairings)
1. (-ARC 1-) Alone in the Woods

_This is a pretty meta fic, with a loooot of worldbuilding fluff. Mainly based around the fact that it would actually be incredibly unlikely to bump into nothing but canon characters if a person were to grow up in/get placed in Konoha, because Konoha is a REALLY big place. Also, the concept of background characters having elaborate personal histories and emotional limitations._

_Note A: This isn't a gamefic. The HDC's coin rewards aren't a prominent part of the story. They exist to define the HDC and their abilities, and also for Amplified Shenanigans. _

_Note B: No pairings = no pairings for Alex. Everyone else is open season._

_Note C: I have art for this fic on my profile - specifically, DeviantArt! This includes art for all the characters, so you have a visual guide. The images also have background information on the character, in some cases! I also have a poll on my profile for your favourite OC, which will be active until the fic ends. _

**squick warnings**: _vomiting, detailed description of eyes_

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><p><span><strong>ARC 1: NATSUME<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 1: Alone In The Woods<strong>

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><p>I puke.<p>

My consciousness begins there and kind of sticks for a while, because your stomach twisting itself like a wet towel until there's nothing left to force out of you is _pretty distracting_, especially when you've only just woken up.

Nothing actually comes out but drool and some unsettlingly slimy green shit that _might_ be phlegm, but I retch for a good five minutes anyway. By the time I'm done, I'm too weak to hold myself up and collapse back down onto the dirt. People should talk more about how draining puking can get. That feels like information I could have used.

Now that I'm no longer upending the sparse contents of my stomach, I can actually think properly and without distraction. Okay, the first memory that comes to mind first is the sensation of falling, and terror, and hazy spires. That's not a great sign to start out with.

I think past that, and...nothing.

I sit up abruptly. It feels very _natural_ to not remember anything, but I know enough to tell that a person doesn't just wake up vomiting and without their memories. Unless...

I trace my fingers over my head, searching for a wound. Untreated concussion seems viable. I don't feel any injuries or sore spots, but my arms feel unusually light. _Everything_ feels unusually light. My fingers don't feel like they're stretching as far as they should, either. Like they're too short, the hand is too small. Trying to fight back the vertigo, I examine my own hand.

It is a very tiny hand, held over very tiny legs.

Seeing the limbs of child would lead most people to assume they_ are_ a child, but I automatically think that this is _wrong_, I'm supposed to be older than this, bigger than this. I don't have little birdbones. There should be more muscle mass, more fat, _more_. This isn't my body.

With a slight gasp, I push myself up off the ground and lean against a nearby tree. There's a lot of those around; it looks like I'm in a forest. I don't see a path or clear route anywhere. I feel like I've been tossed into the middle of nowhere. No memories, nowhere to go, lots of dry-heaving. That's..._great_.

I check over myself. Black jacket that reaches my knees, with four pockets; two breast pockets, and two waist pockets that are as deep as the Marianas Trench. I could probably fit half my tiny little arms in them. Grey half-pants, relatively form-fitting. Black open-toed sandals, firmly bound around the heel and looser around the front, which means I could probably pick things up with my feet in a pinch. (The fact that 'oh great, I can use my toes as extra hands' is a weird implication of my forgotten personality.)

I unzip the jacket to check what's underneath; two more unnecessarily massive pockets, and a blue V-neck T-shirt. There's something in the pocket. I reach in and, after a bit of fishing, pull out an _entire book_.

Who needs pockets this deep?_ Literally no one_.

The book is on the smaller side, and the cover is made from brown leather. The paper looks to be thin and soft. I open and flip through the pages; the text is big, in faded black ink, like it's been left in the sun too long.

**THE HDC COIN CATALOGUE**

_Introduction I_

_Hello, and welcome to your brilliant dimension! This world is now your legal possession, as per the HDC cyclic legislature. I sincerely wish you enjoy your stay. While in your dimension, you may dabble in world domination, domestic peace, or any other assortment of exciting personal objectives! The world is your oyster, as they say._

_Introduction II_

_Included in your dimension is a catalogue of abilities to make the best of your new home. How do you get access to these abilities? By making the best! We reward you for living your life, and you reward us by showing us the life you live._

_But do not fret; the body we have constructed for you is designed to blend in with your surroundings, and you should be able to use the same abilities as any other._

_Introduction III_

_Your personal data are as follows; _

_Name: Please choose whatever you please. Your previous legal name is listed as Alex Colt._

_Age: 7_

_Place of birth: Land of Fire_

_Gender: Indeterminate. _

_Sex: Indeterminate. Please do not strip naked in front of witnesses_

_No record of your presence in this world exists except for your birth certificate. Name will update as you construct your identity.  
><em>

I pause at this, and take a moment to pull down my trousers for a quick peek. After a quick tug at the black undershorts, I see...

I have no junk.

"Nooooo," I whisper. "_Noooooooooooo_."

Also, yes? No. Yeeess? I'm torn between yes, I'm glad I don't have to deal with the ire of reproductive organs, and no, it is _really weird_ to not have them and _how the hell do I pee_. They wouldn't give me a body that couldn't pee, right? They wouldn't do that to me, right? if they had the consciousness to warn me about how I don't have any junk, they'd be conscious enough to realize that the pee hole is typically located in said junk.

I _really_ do not want to trust a mysterious organization that wiped my memories with my ability to pee, to be honest.

I close the book and put it back in my jacket, zipping it up for good measure. Okay, so I wasn't wrong; I definitely had a different body. My biggest concern, now, is the possibly-nefarious 'HDC', and the fact_ I now own an entire dimension_. I'm guessing this isn't a joke, considering my new body and new lack of memory. Or maybe the lack of memory is to throw me off, and I'm being intentionally misled. Maybe someone stuck me in some sort of horrifying test-tube-grown metabody and spun a ridiculous story to keep me complacent. (And afraid.)

What would I even do with my own dimension, anyway? Sell off the land?

So, new problem, ignoring Pee Paranoia and Untrustworthy Book; how do I get out of these woods? I could research the book a little more thoroughly, but the text got more elaborate after the introduction pages and I don't want to burn daylight on something that probably isn't going to help me. I am not curious enough to sit in the middle of nowhere flipping through a book that is possibly fake. I need shelter first. And the fastest way to find shelter is...

I look mournfully up at the trees.

Being the tiniest a 7-year-old human could possibly be, it takes a while to find a branch low enough for me to climb to. The lowest I can manage requires me to do a running kick off the trunk, and I miss about four times before my little fingers manage to wrap around the branch and hang there. Then there's the effort of actually lifting my body up, awkwardly using the trunk as a support. I am_ so glad_ these shoes have good tread.

Once I succeed in clinging onto the branch with my entire body, I continue onto the effort of ascending the tree in its entirety. There are more branches to grab, more twists and turns in the trunk to use as support, and with a little strain, I can scale a few of them. Unfortunately, I run out of energy after about ten feet, far below the extent of the trees. My muscles are sore, and it's a familiar sensation; I probably didn't even work out before I got this body.

"C'mon," I pant, and I_ reach_, and I _will_ every ounce of my energy to my arms, to hold me up just a little longer...

...And my arm_ punctures_ the branch I was going for.

I don't even react. It's not something one can react to, except maybe with a startled yell, because that is a _very thick branch_, and it happened _very suddenly_. I watch with blank wonder as the massive hunk of wood splinters and tumbles down onto the forest floor below with a deafening crash and an explosion of leaves. I stare at my hands. It feels awfully numb.

Everything feels awfully numb.

My vision narrows into a mildly yellow kind-of-green mush of almost-colours, and I can't tell the difference between dizziness and falling. I lose all feeling in my hand. My stomach feels like fire. Gravity feels like it's doing something it's not supposed to, and my surroundings get even blurrier.

Oh. Falling, then.

* * *

><p>"<em>...tand...id gets chakra exhaustion.<em>"

"_Maybe it isn't a civilian kid. Have you searched them?_"

"_Nothing. There's a book, but it's blank - probably a new journal, or a scrapbook_."

This is a trip.

I feel something soft underneath my head and I'm very warm and toasty, but the main thing I'm noticing right now is that this is an entirely different language I am hearing right now, and I understand it perfectly. That in itself would be...normal-ish, but it's a language that automatically IDs as foreign to my ears, and I'm getting broken waves of familiarity in some of the words...like I had learned a bit of it, and then had the rest of the information poured directly into my skull.

This is a trip. This body is a trip. This _world_ is a trip.

Also, they still think I'm unconscious, apparently. Two adults, probably men, sounding a bit agitated, can't tell when a 7-year-old is faking sleep. Don't these guys have kids?

"What should we do?"

"I don't know. They could be a citizen, or travelling with a parent..."

"And if they're not?"

"If they have records of being in the Land of Fire, there's no reason to turn them away. It's a prepubescent child, Ryouji."

Ooh! A name.

"...It's just...after the war..."

"After the war is _peace_. This is an uninjured child who blasted all their chakra trying to climb a tree. Relax."

And a name for the force that destroyed the tree. It sounds familiar. Something I'd only heard about, before? If it were something I was familiar with, I'd probably go 'oh yes, the chakra energy system, of course'. So that means chakra belongs in my body just as much as the ability to understand (Japanese?) Japanese does.

"Whatever. We'll wait until they wake up."

I hear a door opening and closing, presumably Ryouji leaving the room. I listen carefully for anything else, but all I hear is a writing utensil being used. It sounds dry. Light. Pencil? There rapid rhythm sounds like writing, but there's weird tapping noises that don't sound like they belong in any written language I unconsciously know of.

After a while I get bored, so I sit up as slowly and sleepily as I can manage, giving out some good ugly grunts for good measure. The figure in the room with me turns slightly, but doesn't say anything, so I take a moment to take stock of where I am.

Small room, lit by an orange-tinted ceiling hanging. I'm in a small cot, with a thin woven blanket with surprising heat retention over me. There's a wardrobe, a desk (where the other person is currently writing), and a set of file cabinets that take up one of the walls. There's only one door, no windows. Bedroom? Office? Officeroom of someone who loves their job?

I blink blearily and climb out of bed. My shoes are missing, but I doubt I need them right now. Let's see...I'm not interested in files and I'm not sure I can _speak_ Japanese, so the only real thing to nose around in is the wardrobe. It's tall, wide, and unlocked, and I can feel judging eyes boring into the back of my head as I peek inside it.

Just a line of sweaters and some green vests. Something familiar about those, too. A uniform?

A flash of light catches my eye, and I tilt the door a little more to reveal a mirror hanging from it. I take it off the door and give my face a look.

Tanned skin. _Maybe_ on the olive side? I can't tell in this lighting. Thick black hair that reaches just past my ears - not long enough to call it a bob - parted in the middle, no real fringe. Really big, really blue eyes. I give my reflection a quick grin, just to check for dimples, but my cheeks stay consistently rosy and plump. I play with a few facial expressions, trying to commit how my face looks to memory.

My eyes are really distracting. I look really close at my reflection to see what my iris pattern looks like. Flower; a rough, inconsistent ring of fibre clumps. I remember a little about that...

"You look like you've never seen your own face before," the person finally says.

"Did you know there's a whole personality test for eye types?" I say absently, and it comes out in Japanese, almost by reflex. I relax, a bit; it looks like I can actually talk my way out of this.

"No. You're looking at your eyes?" The man's posture is weirdly tight, like he's expecting me to crack a bat over his head or something.

"Based on how the fibres in your irises cluster. My eyes are a flower type. That means I'm emotional, and expressive. Confidence and positive energy." I don't even know if that's accurate. How do you determine your own temperament when you have no memories to go off of?

The man relaxes, though, so I must have said something right. "Oh? What about mine?"

I give him a good look. He's wearing the same sweater and vest that are hanging up in the wardrobe, and one of his legs are bandaged, but he doesn't look injured. Looks to be early-to-mid twenties. His hair is black, in a wild tangle, and his eyes are...

I come in close and pap his chin to make him look up to the light. He leans over onto the table, and sets his chin on his hand, and for some reason it feels like it's important that he's blocking his neck in this position. I just check his eyes.

"Uhmmm..." Dark brown, hard to see. Oh, wait, no! "Jewel. You've got little eye-freckles, and the iris looks really streamlined. Jewel types are pragmatic, analytical, and firm."

"Sounds like me," he says cheerfully. He pulls back, and I do the same. "You have a name, little fortune-teller?"

"It's just a personality test," I mutter.

Shit. I don't have a _name_.

The book_ lists_ a name, I _know_ it does, but I didn't retain any information out of it besides what directly answered 'where am I and why am I teeny'. I kind of assumed winging it would not be a problem, but here I am, standing here like a 7-year-old jackass, nameless and not wearing any shoes.

"I can read other people's eyes if you want," I continue lamely.

The guy narrows his eyes. _SHIIIIIIIIIIIIIT_

"Where are you from?"

"I'm not supposed to say," I blurt, lie stumbling out of my mouth before I can absorb what he's saying. I quickly amend with "I was born in this country."

The man leans back in his chair, and the motion sends a wave of anxiety through me. He can't catch me on my lie, can he? I mean, I'm pretty much an amnesiac. What's there to call?

I can see what he was writing now, though; it doesn't seem to be any language I recognize, looking more like a cipher than something a 7-year-old could read in the first place. He watches me carefully while I try to piece together how it's written; if I look carefully, the thick, detailed blocks are much simpler than they appear. It's the kind of writing system designed to make you read slowly, I suppose.

"Where do you learn to write like that?"

"Like what?"

"Is that another language? It looks weird."

He glances at his notes, then back up at me. "It's Ninkana. Popular wrap-script form."

I give him a look.

"It's scroll-compatible. I can take the writing off and put it in storage," he explains. "Books and looseleaf aren't built for chakra utility, so the script makes up for it. Don't you have this in your country?"

I understood basically none of that, but wince when he calls me on my bluff. "...I don't know. I'm from the Land of Fire."

He scratches his head, looking genuinely frustrated with me. I wish I could say something that would convince him of my trustworthiness; he seemed ready enough to defend me before I messed up. "Did you come here with anyone?"

"I was dumped here. I don't know where I am," I shrug.

Understanding lights his features. "Do you have anywhere to get back to?"

I shake my head. He folds his hands and lets out a long grunt-sigh, the one you make when you have to make a hard decision. I shift uncomfortably, wondering what exactly is at stake here. The other guy - Ryouji - seemed to think I was some sort of...what, child soldier?

"...Okay, tell you what. I'll bring you in, they'll do a quick scan of where your head's at, and we'll see if we can get you situated. There's plenty of civi orphanages available to look after you. That alright with you?"

"Bring me in where?"

"The Hidden Village of the Leaf."

* * *

><p><em><strong>AN:<strong> I always found it remarkably odd that there are kanji/hiragana all over the series, but in things like books and reports and so on, the writing is this really elaborate-looking script. (Not the calligraphy-like stuff you see on seals, the squarer ones.) Even Kakashi's Ika Ika is like that. I figured it must have utility, and a "if you bring your book to a battlefield it is going to get set on fire, dumbass" failsafe is the most reasonable one. _

_Please review if you're enjoying where this is going, and thank you for reading!_

_**2014/12/31 EDIT** - Big time edits. Because the fic was originally written around a slightly different plot, I didn't linger on scenes I should have, which made it read poorly. Doing a lot of beefing up, here. Chapters I've edited so far have the chapter title at the top._


	2. Coin Catalogue

**Chapter 2: Coin Catalogue**

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><p>Hidden Village of the Leaf - <em>Konohagakure<em>.

I'm hit with a sudden _tsunami_ of familiarity, and then it's gone, just like that. Like it had been purposefully forced back. I blink at the man, who is looking at me like he's waiting for an answer. A skittering rebound of information floods my head, and it comes to my attention that I am currently talking to a ninja. I don't know why, but I'm positive this is a fact.

_Somehow._

"Uhm...Sure. Is it close?" I say.

"You passed out just beyond the main road, actually. I thought you had wandered off, before I saw what you did to that tree and patted you down. You're a little too far off to be wandering about with no supplies and firing off your chakra like that."

"Oh. Yeah, I...don't really have many possessions to begin with. I think. So am I going to live in Konoha?"

"Fortunately for you, Konoha has been building orphanages left and right since...well. We can have you registered under 'Misplaced Children' until you have someone to claim you," the man - _chuunin, _my brain supplies - says lazily. He finishes writing something in that odd script and straightens the papers up. "I'm Hayashi Kiyomori. If you remember anything important, you can ask for me at the main offices. Is that alright with you?"

I nod. I have no idea what the hell is going on, and the guidance is appreciated.

Hayashi walks me out of the room, and into a very large hallway with rudimentary electric lighting, wires hanging loosely from the ceiling. The wiring follows us up a rickety old staircase into what looks like a full office, with daylight streaming in through narrow windows. Hayashi leans over one of the desks scattered around the room and comes up holding my shoes.

There's another guy writing something onto a scroll. Since no one else is around, I'm guessing this is Ryouji. Short brown hair, menacing face, a jagged scar on his left hand. Definitely fits the bill of 'ninja' more than Hayashi, who looks like he just rolled out of bed. Judging by the comfortable way said dark-haired ninja ruffles his own hair and stretches, he probably_ always_ looks like that.

Ryouji, meanwhile, is giving me the stink-eye. It's making me seriously uncomfortable.

"Taking the kid in for a foreign checkup," Hayashi tells Ryouji as he passes me my sandals. I use them as an excuse to get out of Ryouji's line of sight; I don't know what his deal is, but he doesn't seem to excited to deal with me. _  
><em>

While I don my footwear, Hayashi dons a metal headband, as ninjas do. He also clips a large, sturdy-looking bag to his hip, and checks the contents; it seems to be a collection of tools. He looks satisfied with what he has, and so he waits expectantly by the door for me to finish. I study the room, Ryouji McGlareMenace, and Hayashi one more time.

Not just ninjas. These are military men. Same thing?

"Sorry," I say mildly, running to Hayashi's side. "Not used to wearing shoes like this."

He gives me another considering look, but doesn't say anything. I grit my teeth with frustration, and a little uncertainty. It's bugging me that I don't know what he's thinking, because he's a ninja and somewhat military-like and that Ryouji guy had directly implied _child soldiers_, like a 7-year-old could be a _threat_. Or maybe he thought I was some sort of plant for gathering information, or-

My thought process is interrupted by my guide knocking my feet out from under me and swinging my body on top of him for a piggy-back ride. I automatically wrap my arms around his neck, and he goes tense for a second before adjusting my position with a little jump and taking off into the forest.

Flying through so many obstacles at such a high speed is exhilarating. Just as I think we're going to collide with the branches, Hayashi makes an elegant arc and springs off it. When it seems like there's nothing left to spring off, he makes massive, inhuman leaps that span farther than a sugar glider could manage. As he makes these bizarre feats of acrobatics, I begin to notice that I can't actually remove myself from his back, and the reason for that is a mild buzzing, almost like static.

Since I have nothing else to do and I'm afraid too much sightseeing might make me motion-sick, I try to focus on that feeling. It's not just between us; it hums in his body too, and while I can barely discern it normally, it becomes slightly more obvious when he lands. After a few more landings, I realize exactly what's happening here; he's using energy - chakra, I think it's called - to propel himself while keeping me firmly glued to his back. That's _so cool_.

"Can you teach me how to do that?" I ask him.

"Do what?"

"The...jumping thing. With your chakra. You're using chakra, right?"

"You can learn how to do that with basic physical education," he laughs. "It's just building up your energy and timing the release. Nothing complicated."

"So I can learn it real fast?"

"Yep."

I prepare a few more questions about how chakra works, but I don't get the chance to ask any of them, because we're landing on the road we have apparently been traveling adjacent to this whole time. He detaches me from his back, and I slide down.

He gestures over his shoulder, helpfully indicating to me the _massive_ red wall spanning god-knows-how-far, with an equally huge gate. My memory _screams_ at me, like I've seen this before, but I can't grasp _where_.

"Here we are, the Hidden Leaf." He takes my hand and walks me up to the gates. The guards simply nod at Hayashi, but they look as distrustful of me as Ryouji did. Seriously, _rude_.

The village is the kind of city that built_ on_, rather than _out_ or _up_. There's large groundwork buildings, and then apartments and houses that seem like they were shoved in while using the 'noclip' function on a game hack. The only buildings that don't have additions are the shops, and even that isn't a rule. There's also pipes and wires everywhere, usually in places they shouldn't be.

I narrow my eyes. This seems to be a thriving city, probably roughly the size of Seattle, and it's built so _sloppily_ in these inner streets, which means...

That means this is was done very quickly. In such a huge, populous, and stable city, there's no reason to be _this _sloppy, which means something necessitated a rush job. Best guess is, this entire area had been completely leveled by something, and they didn't have the resources or money to completely fix up the entire city.

So what was it? Earthquake? Hurricane? I'm not sure what the weather is like around here, or if this place is even on the mainland. I don't know if there _is_ a mainland.

My eyes finally skirt upwards, and I see that there is a massive fault towering over Konoha, and they've carved some giant heads onto it. Four of them, all men. They look proud, and for some reason, it feels like a fact that these people were ninjas too. Generals, maybe?

My memories throb again. This time I push it down myself. I'm not going to give myself a headache if my brain's not going to give me anything.

Hayashi guides me to a more polished building, and I only manage to catch 'intelligence' on the sign before I'm guided inside. The inside isn't nearly as pretty, just gray concrete and unforgiving florescent lights. Hayashi ignores the receptionist, and that makes me incredibly nervous. Then he takes me down a seemingly endless maze of concrete corridors, which makes me even more nervous.

Could I escape, if I ran?

I don't know if I want to. Hayashi has given me no reason to assume he was lying and is going to do something awful. Ryouji said 'war', but if whatever war that was happening is over again, why hurt a stranger? Didn't he say he was going to see where my head's at? It's just a quick interview, and the fact this building looks like a prison is just...coincidental.

We finally stop at a wooden door. Hayashi gives it a gentle knock. I fidget behind him, wondering if I should let go of his hand now. It's getting kind of sweaty.

"Hiori-_chaaaaan_," Hayashi calls, and I peak from behind my guide's hip to see the door opening.

It's woman in a black trenchcoat, also wearing the headband. Her long greenish-black hair dangles around me as she leans over_,_ but the impressive amount of hair is nothing in comparison to her eyes; while I can see she has pupils that are flicking around enough for me to assume she's using them, her eyes are covered with a shining chrome film that ends a little past the irises. Holy shit, that's weird. Are those contacts? Can you put metal in your eyes in this country? World? _Augh_.

She doesn't seem to notice how freaky I think her eyes are. "Who's this?"

"Presumably a civilian, Misplaced Child. You said you owed me a favour, yeah?"

"Sorry, should I translate that as 'registering Misplaced Persons is an hour's worth of paperwork minimum and I want to use you to cut it in half, because I am - and always have been - grossly abusing our history as unit teammates for my own personal gain'? Oh yes, I'll go ahead and do that, then."

Hayashi gives her a weak, nervous smile.

She rolls her eyes and puffs her cheeks at him, and makes a few gestures that seem like an elaborate form of sign language. After doing this, she places a firm hand on my head. Suddenly, I'm flooded with chakra, and it crackles around in my head like I'm full of live wires. I make a small sound of displeasure, and Hayashi laughs at me.

"Oh dear," she laughs, returning her hand. "It seems this kid has lost their memory entirely. That's_ awful_."

"Does that mean more paperwork?" Hayashi asks grimly.

The woman snorts at him. "No, it means we can automatically file them as a Misplaced Child without all the extra bells and whistles. The kid is probably a civilian. You can go get them filed. We might have to bring them back for a visit; typically, if someone has their memories erased, it's for a very good reason."

"Thank goodness," Hayashi breathes. I am starting to get the impression that this guy is kind of a lazy asshole.

"Take care, Kiyo. Make sure to get back to the outpost before Ryouji burns the place down in a fit of rage."

"I find the isolation relaxes him," Hayashi rebuffs casually, and then we're off again. I look from the woman to Hayashi, and purse my lips.

Well. Orphanages. Those are probably fine.

* * *

><p>There's a lot of screaming children at the place Hayashi takes me to, but it is, in fact, totally fine. It appears to be some sort of large estate, with a huge gated doorway in front (which Hayashi completely skips over, for some reason) and a stone fence ringing the backyard, only interrupted by a huge double-door made of metal and wood. The doors have a white insignia of three dots, with a ring going through the top dot.<p>

"Wakahisa Orphanage. Wouldn't recommend anything lesser," Hayashi introduces, noticing my scrutiny. I decide not to ask about the symbol, feeling a little self-conscious of the possibility that it's totally obvious.

There's plenty of quiet corners and mild-mannered children to see as we make our way to the registry, which instantly appeals to me. The room we end up in is just as quiet, but in a warm, peaceful way. The dim lighting allows sunlight to pour in, giving the place a cozy feeling.

There's a brown-haired and strikingly brittle-looking man sitting at one of the desks, flipping through a few files. He has cheekbones that could slice _nations_ in half, but their visual appeal are a little waylaid by the fact he kind of looks like a zombie. I am doubtful this man has ever felt a ray of sun upon his pasty flesh.

Hayashi knocks on the doorframe to catch the man's attention. He glances up, revealing surprisingly warm eyes. (Cradled by nasty-looking eyebags, but still, very soothing.)

"Oh...can I help you?"

Hayashi looks suddenly very uncomfortable. I furrow my brows at his sudden interest in the floor. "Ah, yeah, coming in from the outpost. I have a misplaced child, figured I'd throw them at you."

"Oh...not a problem, not a problem..." The man gets to his feet. "I have someone for paperwork, no need to hover. Thank you for choosing this orphanage."

"I've, uh. Heard good things!" Hayashi says in steadily escalating pitch. Seriously. What is his problem.

"Good, good...now, I'll go and get a nice place ready for the child, so if you'll excuse me..." He moves to pass us, but he stops to smile gently at me and pat me on the head. I feel heat flare in my cheeks, but don't deny the attention.

He moves into the hall, leaving us alone in the room. There's an awkward silence for a few moments afterwards.

"Well, that's me," Hayashi grins. "If you need anything, you can usually find me wandering around on those Hokage heads during my days off."

Another wave of familiarity, but it doesn't come with any information kickback like last time. I narrow my eyes. "What's a 'Hokage'?"

"Ninja mayor," he says easily.

"Makes sense," I reply, even though it really doesn't.

Hayashi exits with a very obvious and very rude sigh of relief, leaving me alone in the room.

I don't see anything to fidget with, and this technically counts as shelter, so I sit down in one of the chairs by the door and pull out my book. Just because I can't trust it doesn't mean I should just ignore it. It's the only thing that seems to hint at my current situation. I'm confused and kinda pissed about it, to be honest.

**Coins**

T_he HDC understands that a body that matches the world you are taken to is often not enough to survive, and are happy to present to you the coin ability system!  
><em>

_Coins are rewarded to you for living your life! The more you live, the more powerful you can become! Don't hold back, because you only live once. (Probably.)_

_Please note that usage of these abilities put cellular strain on the body we have provided to you. Moderation is advised._

_You can purchase abilities from this catalogue, and use them through the Call Command System. The system is similar to this world's 'summoning techniques', and are simple and easy to use! Redefine and conquer your life and your world!_

I blink. Okay, no information. Free powers. That's...good? That's good, right? That means I'm safer. Assuming no one knows about the powers. I'm a little curious about the 'living' thing, though. What does the HDC get out of me being (pro-actively) alive? Is it something to do with my weird body? Or why my memories are all wonky (if not totally non-existent)? What are 'summoning techniques' in this world? What does HDC even_ stand_ for?

Everything about this is vague and I hate it.

I turn the page.

**Call Commands**

_"**Call: Coinbook**" will bring you your book of existing coins, both blank and stamped._

_"**Call: Coin Catalogue**" will bring this book to your position, if forgotten or destroyed._

_"**Coin: [please state ability here]**" will bring you a specific coin. You can also use this to summon blank coins. _

_"**Coin On: [please state ability here]**" will activate a coin which has an ability that does not require being applied to the surroundings._

_Call commands can be used in any language, including nonverbal forms such as writing or sign language. When writing commands, please place some form of punctuation at the end._

On the opposite page is a series of pictures illustrating the usage of these 'coin command' things; stick figure summoning what looks like a small case, stick figure summoning a book, stick figure summoning a coin, and stick figure with a glowing ball of magic. At the bottom are three stick men, one talking, one writing, and one signing. Relatively easy to understand.

Well, if it's bullshit it's bullshit, and if it's not, I'm less likely to die. This place feels pretty military-centric, what with the mayors being ninjas (which is what the military is made up of, I _think_), so I'm all for that.

"Call: Coinbook," I say out loud.

To my surprise, a metal case seems to_ pour_ from the atmosphere, as if the air itself was opaque goo to surface from. I was expecting a few things, but probably not that. It sets my nerves on end, but then I remember_ less likely to die_ and push the feeling down.

I tentatively open the case, and...yes, it's a red velvet-lined template for holding coins. There's one coin already set there. I take it out and continue reading the book eagerly.

**Coin Rewards Program**

_In order to promote an active experience, you will be given coins as you meet important people and find important places! Explore, socialize, interrupt, change up, kill people._

I can _feel_ the blood draining from my face.

_This is your world, and you control it! HDC will not limit your coin usage in any way! Your physical decay from coin abuse can be recovered! (Mostly.) _

_Of course, HDC takes no responsibility in the event of your ultimate demise._

_Your tasks are a certainty to us, and a mystery to you, but we're sure you'll come to understand many things as you strive for greatness._

_Remember, we're always watching._

I nearly drop the book, but the caterpillar-crawling discomfort and fear trailing up and down my spine isn't enough to stop me from reading, because the next page says '**Catalogue**' and I am suddenly very scared of dying in a world of child soldiers and chakra that can obliterate trees in the hands of small children.

I turn the page.

The 'abilities' are full-page illustrations with short descriptions and ordering instructions, featuring a picture of what the stamp looks like in a circle at the top, and an illustration of the effects at the bottom. The first two pages give me a pretty solid impression of what the rest of the abilities are going to be like.

_**Character Modeling**_

_Edit your default appearance._

_Use "Stamp: Character Modeling" while holding a blank coin to stamp this ability. Cost: 1 coin._

The stamp is a profile of a face, and the illustration looks like a character creation screen.

_**Ghost**_

_Lower your resolution of existence. Target-exception included._

__Use "Stamp: Ghost" while holding a blank coin to stamp this ability. Cost: 1 coin.__

A stamp of an eye, and a stick figure drawn in a broken outline phasing through a rock. That...actually sounds super useful, but I don't want to waste 'coins' just yet. If 'living' means 'killing a dude', I really won't be stockpiling these things.

I keep flipping.

_**Sub-Modeling **_

_Create an additional appearance._

_...Cost: 1 coin._

**_Boost_**

_Amplify strength. Affects your speed and power. Limit of 3 purchases._

_...Cost: 5 coins._

**_Spark_**

_Amplify senses. Affects your agility, instincts, smell, sight, hearing. Limit of 3 purchases._

_...Cost: 5 coins._

_**Dimensional Guesthouse**_

_Create a small pocket dimension room. Size limit of 5x5 metres._

_...Cost: 1 coin._

_Dimensional _

_**Dimensional Complex**_

_Create a large pocket dimension room. Size limit of 20x20 metres._

_...Cost: 2 coins._

The next few dozen pages are amplifications and additions to pocket dimensions, including 'fully furnished' and 'full terrain, please specify desired biome'. Whatever the HDC is, they seem to specialize more in dimensional stuff than...basically anything else. I'm guessing the only reason stuff related to my body is in here is because HDC created the body in the first place.

Ick. This body is _created_. That fact just caught up with me, just now. I don't have enough memories to feel violated, but I have enough basic information to think that's kind of creepy.

So, one coin, what to stamp? Well, I already have shelter, and I've apparently been accepted into Konoha so I don't need to sneak around...The only thing I really feel like playing with is probably my face. Then again, there may be risks to overwriting what I look like. Which just leaves me with...

I hold up the coin. "Stamp: Sub-Modeling."

The coin imprints immediately, making me flinch in surprise - it's the Character Modeling's face profile, with two profiles instead of one - and shines brightly before dropping in my hand. As I am _way_ too stressed at this point to figure out how to use this thing manually, I flip back to the command sheet.

"Uh...Coin On: Sub-Modeling."

As it turns out, the character creation screen illustrated in the book was pretty accurate.

There's a full-body mirror, accompanied by a series of sliders and tabs. I feel a visceral pleasure that tells me that I was _really_ into this stuff before the memory loss. _Everything_ has a damn slider, and for some reason, there is no greater joy on this earth than that fact. The whole thing is set into what looks like a shimmering pool of water, and the square window ripples in the air. I lean over to look behind it. It's flat, so much so that I can't actually see it from the sides - just front and back.

Reasonably speaking, the fact the HDC can make a coin that produces a character creation window from the fabric of reality is probably proof that everything the book stated is very likely true, up to and including the fact that not only do I own _this_ dimension, I can stamp a bunch of coins to own even more, tinier dimensions. This honestly feels like a bit too much powerful to give to a disoriented seven-year-old, to be honest.

I take a deep breath and move the slider for eyebrow opacity all the way to the left. My eyebrow hairs recede and thin until they vanish. Sliding it all the way to the right makes them long, thick, and course.

"Well, this is gonna be _fun_."

* * *

><p>By the time the person in charge of paperwork gets here (twenty minutes later, thanks), I've taken on a completely different face, closed the window by getting frustrated and throwing my coin at it, stuck the coin into my wrist to put the new face I made back on, and started nosing through the orphanage's files.<p>

In my defence, I was bored as hell, and I wanted to cram my skull with information. The orphanage files is a good place to start on 'what's with the rebuilt buildings' end, too. People tend to die when a lot of buildings break. The HDC's little reward system is nice, but I don't technically need it (or _want_ to need it, because there is something distinctly horrifying about an organization that can create a new body, stick you in it, and give you legal ownership of a whole planet.) For now, I'm going to be living in this Konoha place, and I'd like to know more about that.

Unfortunately, my curiosity leads me to getting caught red-handed rifling through a file cabinet, probably-classified information in hand.

"Oh," says the portly paperwork woman, looking at me with a mix of suspicion and surprise. "You've been busy."

"All these orphans came just under seven years ago," I say, mostly because there is no way talking my way out of this. "Why is that?"

"There was a...there was an incident. With a type of chakra beast. Very terrible," she says, still frozen.

I hum and slide the document back into place. I wasn't doing anything wrong. Technically. Knowing when the kids weren't admitted isn't wrong, right? "So that's why all the buildings are..._weird_. I thought it was an earthquake, or something."

"Oh...oho!" She breaks out into a brilliant grin and pats me on the head. "My, aren't you a clever child! Thought to take a look when you saw that, eh? You'd make a good ninja!"

"Sorry if I'm not allowed." I wander back into my seat, and she sits down where the brittle-looking man had been sitting earlier.

"No, no, I've had much worse. Sensible-minded children like you are the easiest to deal with, in the long run. You're the type who knows how to control the rowdy ones, am I right?" She chuckles.

"I wouldn't know," I reply.

The woman gives me a curious look, but doesn't pry. She doesn't have to; the amnesia is probably in Hayashi's report.

Wait, _shit_, my appearance might be too. That's not good, because I went a little..._over the top_ in changing my features. My hair, while still black, is short, spiky, and upswept. My big blue eyes are now small, narrow, and black. I made my nose a bit more upturned, I squared out my jaw, I made my limbs a little thicker because the bird-leg anatomy was bothering me, and everything else filled out a little bit because _seriously_, so tiny. I also did so many things to my voice that I honestly can't remember what sliders my new vocal tone is made up of.

I basically seem more like a feral little boy, not a dainty androgynous child, and that sort of difference shows in even the most basic of descriptions.

I glare accusingly at the coin on the inside of my wrist. I'm guessing taking it off means this face goes away, so I leave it.

Thankfully, Hayashi did not feel the need to describe me in any large amount of detail, either because it was not required or because he is, in fact, a lazy asshole. I appreciate it either way. The woman cheerfully writes down some notes, pauses and makes a Very Sad Face at what I'm guessing is the mention of my amnesia, and signs off on the document she was copying to.

"Alrighty, then! Since we don't have access to any of your legal information, all you need to tell me is your name. Do you know your name?" She gives me a Very Sad Look, and god, is this what being pitied feels like?

"Uh...I don't know. I haven't picked one out yet."

"Alright. Well, we can suit you out with the typical Wakahisa surname, in that case. Would you mind if I named you, see if you like it?"

"Go for it," I sigh.

"Hmmm...How about 'Natsume'? it's summer, isn't it? Is that okay with you?" She glances down at my file then back up at me. "Oh, just to confirm, your gender is..."

I consider the unlikelihood of there being any other option besides '_boy_' and '_girl_' and also the fact I had chucked a bunch of masculine traits onto this character model. "...Boy."

"Right, and Wakahisa Natsume is a nice name, right? You're okay with it?"

I shrug. "Fine."

"Of course. Now, Tomo-chan left a little while ago, but once he's back, he'll take you around the orphanage and introduce you to everyone. Since you're classified as a 'Misplaced Child', you can't be adopted, but you can take an independence test to apply for your own housing once you turn eight! Just a small apartment, but children like you really love living for yourself, right?"

_That's probably what happened to Uzumaki-_

...?

Who?

I shake my head at the sudden, bizarre observation based off of knowledge I didn't have. That...felt wrong. I'm getting used thinking around the holes in my memory, and all of my half-memories have some sort of context to them; I know, factually, that character selection screens most often appear on games of the multiplayer variety, for example. But this thought felt like it tumbled out of my skull, completely separated from _anything_ in my head.

...Is it one of my suppressed memories?

"Er, you...or rather, Natsume-chan? Are you alright?"

I blink at her, before nodding slowly. "Yeah. Fine. Who did you say was going to show me around?"

* * *

><p><em><strong>AN:<strong> I actually went through multiple versions of this fic, but the only thing that stayed consistent was the inherent understanding that the only way I could make a self-insert fic unique was by introducing something as bizarre and unsettlingly out-of-place as the HDC. The HDC's 'rewards' are all based on 'deceit' and 'sneaking'. _


	3. Childlike

**Chapter 3: Childlike**

* * *

><p>I flip through my book while I wait for this 'Tomo-chan' guy to come back. Reading the introduction again...<em>Alex Colt<em>. My true name, I guess? Maybe I should have asked for something that sounded similar to it, but the woman seems pretty damn chipper about getting to name me, so Natsume is fine for now.

The door opens, and I quickly snap the book closed and look as innocent and child-like as I can for...

For...

The brittle-looking man who was there when I came in with Hayashi.

When I had an_ entirely different face_.

He looks at me, then to the woman, then down at me again, like he's waiting for an explanation. I'm not sure I can give one. My stomach twists into a knot, and I think_ fight or flight_, if it's even possible to get out of this village, if I'm allowed to just leave if I haven't been registered, yet. But I _have_ been registered, that's what the woman came here for. Am I stuck here? This is a heavily militarized city, isn't it? If they find out I have something they can use...

"Oh, Tomo-chan! Listen, this is Wakahisa Natsume! He's our newest member of the family! Natsume-chan, this is Tomoya, one of our caretakers. He'll get you all settled in!"

Tomoya's eyes narrow. He looked soft and breakable when we first entered the room, but now he looks a bit more secure, calculated, ready to strike. Or am I imagining it? He's just a civilian, isn't he?

"Natsume-chan?"

"I," I swallow, "I'm...Natsume. Hayashi-san took me here. I don't have any...I don't have any memories."

The coin in my wrist feels hot. I want to rip it off and throw it away with the book, and never use it again. Stupid. The very first opinion I had of it and the HDC was 'suspicious'. I shouldn't have gone along with it. I should have just tossed it in the woods and live out my life here without any complications, should have _worried_ more, should have reacted at this fake body and empty memories and-

"It's nice to meet you, Natsume-kun," Tomoya says suddenly. He pauses for a second, every atom of him seems to tremble with tension and intent, I flinch back, and then - he comes apart into his previous fragile, meek demeanor, as if there were never a problem.

I swallow again, and follow him into the hall.

If he says anything, I don't hear it. My heart is hammering so hard my ear drums feel swollen with it. My fingers feel numb. My entire spine is lined with icy fear. Even if Tomoya is just a citizen, he can report that something's amiss. Those long concrete hallways had a lot of doors. Any one of them could have a room that would break me. It's an intelligence bureau, isn't it? Does that include gathering intelligence from small children in a locked room, somewhere?

Tomoya stops in front of a door. I freeze in place, not wanting to make even the slightest move, lest he interpret it as hostile. The sun is warm and streaming through the open sliding doors that lead to the outside yard, and children's screaming voices carry beyond it. I'm freezing. I feel like I'm going to cry.

He goes inside, and I follow with halting, quiet steps. It's a library, with a few cases full of children's books and two more with full volumes. There's a series of tables and pillows strewn around room, and a box full of toy tools like abacuses and wordboards.

Tomoya shuts the door behind me. I can't even make a sound. My voice is dead in my throat.

"Natsume-kun," he says slowly, "can you look at me for a second?"

It's been my name for all of ten minutes and it still sends a chill all the way down to the pit of my stomach. I peer up at him and try not to sob.

"Natsume-kun," he says, softer, more gentle, "Are you a liar?"

I shake my head.

"Do you think it's okay to lie?"

I shake my head again.

"Okay. Then tell me the truth, now." He squats down so he's below my eye level, looking up at me. "Are you the same child as the one who came in with Hayashi-san?"

I nod. My lip is trembling, no matter how tight I try to pull it.

"Show me how, please."

I fumble with my wrist. The coin feels like it's grafted on, and I'm not sure if it'll even come off, but...it pops free without a problem. I feel my flesh ripple, and Tomoya's eyes widen slightly. He doesn't say anything. My eyes are prickling.

The silence is deafening.

Slowly, carefully, he brings his hand up, up, up, and places it on my head. It traces down past my ears, under the edges of my hair, and cups my cheek. I avert my gaze, focusing deeply on the floorboards of the library.

"You're a very cute child," he says. I can hear the smile in his voice. "Why did you put the other face on?"

"I tho...I thought it was..." I hiccup with the effort of holding back tears. "I thought I looked kinda cool."

"That's fine." He takes the coin from my trembling fingers and removes his hand from my face. "Hm...does it only work on you?"

I have no idea, but I nod anyway.

"I see." He stands back up, and I wait for him to leave or put the coin away or knock me out or call for someone to take me in or _do something_.

He passes the coin back to me.

"Let's keep this a secret between me and you. Okay?"

I look up. He's standing over me with a serene expression on his face, watery brown eyes alight with love and understanding. His dark, wavy hair dangles around his head, cutting shadows over his face, but somehow, he seems impossibly bright.

I burst into tears.

* * *

><p>Things I learned today: seven-year-old body, <em>seven-year-old brain.<em>

Tiny, emotional, impulsive, helpless, manipulable, instinctively submissive brain.

There could be worse ways to find that out, I guess.

I'm still pretty mortified at the complete breakdown, and I let Tomoya drag me around the orphanage while I bury my face in his thigh and pretend I hadn't just cried for ten minutes straight because I thought I was in trouble. He names things left and right, pointing out the kitchen and the study hall and the training room for the kids who go to the Academy (which is covered in leaves, for some reason).

Finally he takes me to the dorms. It's just one massive room, with a huge storage shelf for all the kids' bedrolls.

"We don't have the money for beds," he explains sheepishly. My bedroll is on the bottom row, second from the right. Tomoya takes out a felt pen from his apron and writes my name on the cubbyhole's tag. Then he draws flowers around it. I don't say anything to stop him. Flowers are nice.

Next, he brings me to the yard, where the children are playing. I rub my eyes to make_ extra_ sure my face is dry and tilt my head up high. I may have the emotional sensitivity of a child, but I have the...the...

I do not have the experience of an adult. I'm an amnesiac. The only reason I know I'm an adult is because I keep expecting myself to be larger and I cuss a lot.

I shrink back into Tomoya's thigh again.

One of the children who was playing tag (or 'Oni', as it's called here, explaining why the one who's 'it' keeps making monster noises) comes up to me and looks me up and down. I gaze unseeingly at their impressively thick tama-shaped eyebrows, trying not to melt into a puddle of anxiety. I also try not to think about how tiny they are. The kid must be very nearly a full head shorter than I am, and I'm only about 4'5.

"Hey," they say. "How fast can you run?"

"Dunno," I mumble.

"Betcha can't run faster than me."

I look up at Tomoya for approval. Tomoya smiles down at me and gives me a little nudge. I shuffle forward and take a deep breath. I don't _need_ approval from a child. Children throw their approval left and right. As long as I fall in step, I should get along with everyone just fine.

"I bet I can," I say firmly.

And then I'm the Oni, and I'm chasing the kids around the yard. I can't run faster than the kid, true, but I can still run pretty damn fast. All it takes is a bit of extra tactics to tag someone, and then I take off, changing my path up and using other kids as human shields. Before long, I'm screaming and laughing with the best of them. Tomoya is sitting with a smaller plum-haired child around the same age as me, curled up with a book. I lose interest in the sight when the Oni jumps in front of me, and I have to escape near-death.

Soon, it's time for lunch, and we all run into the orphanage screaming bloody murder, because we're awful children who can't be controlled, only directed. I am officially absorbed into their monstrous ranks. The lunchroom is packed within seconds, and I instinctively take a seat next to the kid who propositioned me. His name is Toro, and he's something like a leader around these parts.

Three caretakers go around the room giving us our plates. Lunch is rice mixed in with veggies, and I've never seen anything more delicious.

I focus on eating for a while, but once I get over the excitement of being swept up by a group, I start to notice all the kids at the other tables. They seem to cluster at random on the most part, and the smaller kids have their own table off to the side next to the baby's feeding chairs. Then my eyes catch something. Something wrong.

There's a full-sized table in the corner, surrounded by cushions for people to sit, but the only on there is a single child, dressed in a black hazmat suit and a gas mask with the breather open so they can eat while wearing it. There isn't one scrap of visible skin on their entire body.

"What's with them?" I nod in the suited kid's direction.

"You shouldn't talk to him," Toro grunts. "He's weird. He never eats with us and has his own room and when we go out to play he just hides in the library."

I blink. "Why?"

"'Cause he's weird." Toro stuffs a chopstick's load of rice in his mouth with an air of finality.

"Does he have a name?" I press.

"Dunno."

"It's Kumoki," the girl next to me helps. "Magara Kumoki."

"Kumo as in spider?" I ask. She nods. I jump up from my seat. "That's cool. I'm gonna talk to him."

I'm halfway across the room before the rest of them could think to stop me. Kumoki doesn't react to my sudden and aggressive approach, even when I stand right next to him with my hands on my hips. He just keeps eating, stiffly angling his arm down to pick up rice and up again to put into the gas mask's hole. It's very robotic, and more than a little creepy.

"Hey," I prompt.

He keeps eating.

"Hey. I'm Wakahisa Natsume. I'm new."

He keeps eating.

"Uh...you're...Kumoki, right?"

He pauses. "...Un."

That's...a pretty weak response, but a response all the same. Besides, I started out monosyllabic too, right? I just have to catch his interest somehow.

"So, you, er...you're wearing a pretty big suit!"

"...Un."

"Why are you wearing it?"

He doesn't answer.

"So...You like the food here?"

"Un."

"It's pretty good. I haven't eaten all day, so I'm really glad."

He doesn't respond. In fact, he hasn't even looked at me the entire time I've spoken to him. He just sort of..._stopped_. Secretly a robot, maybe? His voice doesn't sound robotic, though. It's one sound, but it's soft and light and definitely child-like.

"So, you like it at the orphanage?"

"Un."

"Everyone here is really nice?"

Finally, Kumoki moves. He just curls up on himself a bit, bowing his head slightly, but it's movement. "...Un."

"...Well..." I search for something else to say. "...Tomoya-san is really nice, right?"

"Un."

"Well...I'm just a Misplaced Child...I don't know what that means, but I hope I can spend a lot of time here..." Well, technically a lie. I don't care much either way. Still, it's probably a topic these kids think about a lot, and I'm not sure my poor, still-developing seven-year-old brain can stand living all by myself.

Kumoki continues to not react in any way. Starting to get why the other kids aren't huge fans here.

"So, I'm going to go eat now..." I mumble, edging a way. "Nice to meet you."

"...Un."

He continues his robotic, rigid eating gestures, silent as the grave. At a loss, I return to my seat, to the welcoming smiles and knowing looks of my new peers.

I didn't make any promises about making friends, after all.

* * *

><p>The schedule at the orphanage is haphazard, and the meals seem to be the only thing the children are obligated to do. Anyone over the age of four has an amazing amount of freedom, here.<p>

Generally, the schedule my age group tend to fall into is breakfast, playing in the yard or the neighborhood, lunch, hanging out listening to stories in the library, more playing, dinner, and downtime activities (such as studying, drawing, exchanging stories, or wordplay). Every two days, though, we have to take classes, because "Just because you're not in the Academy doesn't mean you get to skip an education".

We also take a group bath after dinner, which is a little harrowing. No one questions the fact I'm never seen without a waist towel, but it's only a matter of time. I typically spend bath time washing off in the corner and submerging myself up to my eyes while soaking. It's calm-down-time for most of the kids, so I am saved from rambunctious towel-pulling, but for _how long_?

No one has questioned the fact I never go to the bathroom, though. _I_ question it, all the time. I do plenty of drinking, these days, _that liquid should be going somewhere. _

I pay attention to Kumoki's schedule, out of idle curiosity, and it's a bit disturbing; he eats breakfast, and then just _vanishes_. He supposedly attends the academy, but doesn't come back until dinner, and that includes free days. The running theory is 'secret training'. I really do not know what sort of training a kid in a black hazmat suit would participate in.

After two weeks, I'm about as settled in as I'm going to get. I'm keeping up with the other kids and their mindsets, fitting in as well as I can, and I have earned awe and respect at my artistic and word game talent. My studies are incredibly basic math and biology stuff, and it's easy to power through my work and focus on more important matters of interest.

Namely, chakra.

I can't sense the static-like energy pulse now, like I could when riding on Hayashi's back, which I'm going to go ahead and take to mean I can only sense it when it's used the way ninjas use it. Chakra seems to be a combination of mental energy and physical energy, built up and then molded into usable energy. According to a children's book on the subject, everyone is born with a circulatory system called 'coils', and the energy moving through these coils is what holds our body together.

There isn't a whole lot on the matter in the library. There seems to be scrolls on the subject, but they're in that same simple-elaborate dots-and-dashes script that Hayashi had been using. Apparently, you can learn how to read it the academy, but I don't _want_ to wait six months to learn about chakra. So I steal the codes and scripts textbook of one of my Academy-attending peers.

I never claimed to be a very moral person.

I practice every class. Ninkana features one hundred letters, fourteen forms of punctuation, and a specific order each letter must be written in (this is because the script is designed to be able to be sucked up into seals or alternate surfaces). Because of the rhythm inherent in drawing the same letter over and over again, my body learns how to write the script before my mind does, and my writing is...well, it isn't _good_, but it's acceptable.

Soon, the classroom isn't enough, so I break off from the group for an hour or two at a time to practice my reading and writing. It's simply a different way of writing Japanese, so it's much simpler than trying to learn an entirely different language, but there are_ one hundred_ of these things, and way more extra punctuation. In Japanese, there are like...three punctuations. _Maybe_ four. It looks like these extra letters are designed to indicate ninja-common subjects, like chakra elemental releases (?) and seal types and Techniques Limited To Bloodline (?), as well as telling the difference between a request, a demand, a plea...

I pick up the habit of keeping an extra piece of looseleaf on hand during class and copying all of my work in ninkana on it. _Writing_ well means _reading_ well, and I intend to master writing it, in the very least.

Separating from the group tends to put me in the path of the caretakers, though. While they enjoy the fact I'm studying so diligently, they also express concern for my social life and force me to help with them with chores when I say I'll play later. By the end of week three, I've already mastered basic ninkana, floor-washing, window-cleaning, paper door repair, basic first aid, the best way to lift various objects without straining the body, and how to cook enough rice for fifty-eight children.

It's mid-summer and a month after I first arrived when Tomoya peeks into the library where I'm leisurely plodding along a scroll that seems to be about the history of the elemental nations. It's a slow day, and I had hoped that meant I would be able to make some progress, but based on the needling expression on Tomoya's face, that hope is dead.

"Natsume-kun, do you want to go shopping with me?" He asks, holding his hands together in a mild begging gesture. "I need extra hands."

I must have internalized household contribution at some point, because I don't even argue. I just close my note-taking scroll, stuff it in my pocket, and say "Sure."

I've never actually gone shopping, before. We're only allowed to run amock in the neighborhood, where plenty of people can see us, and have to ask permission to go downtown. I'd been saving up my money, but I only have 150 ryo so far. It's not a lot to go on, and I'd much rather have someone walk me through how to buy things in Konoha.

The main streets are bright and bustling, and I have to cling to Tomoya to keep from being swept away. Konoha is _big_. Tomoya is a very brittle person, so frail and thin that I could probably break him in half over my knee (and I could barely climb a tree by myself), but when he has a child on his arm, he's as solid as steel. He always pushes me ahead of him when going around fast-moving crowds, so he can keep track of me in case I get dragged around. He's pretty good at his job.

It turns out the reason there were fast-moving crowds because it's special sale day. Tomoya grips my shoulders and looks down at me like a comrade.

"Natsume-kun, do you want to be a ninja?"

I nod, slowly, getting an inkling of why he took me specifically. It's not like they didn't notice that I've been learning ninkana. I haven't been training to be a ninja, but most seven-year-olds would jump at a chance to pretend to be one. I'm not an Academy student. I don't have school today. They can _use_ that.

"Then, can you get all these vegetables without being trampled?" He passes me a shopping list. That is a_ lot_ of veggies. Then again, fifty-eight children.

"Probably," I mumble. He takes the list back and grips my shoulder, other hand presenting a cloth bag to me. The look in his eyes is full of resignation and hope. It feels like we're going into battle.

"Do your best."

The first thing on the list was leaved vegetables; cabbage, lettuce, and rhubarb (which is often coated in sugar and given out as snacks, since candy is too expensive). They're in the refrigerated section of the grocery store, flanked by eager housewives and people on their lucky days off. Horrifying.

Even though not all of the crowd is interested in those specific items, they're still blocking me from reaching them. I peer around their legs for an opening. Most of them are standing properly, but...yes! One of them has stepped back to stabilize themselves, leaving an opening in their legs for me to dart through. I shoot through like a bullet, and the sudden dash makes me lose my balance and roll into the open fridge, but the fact I hit the open fridge means I have made it across the barrier of people.

"Success," I hiss, and I pop back up to collect my items. I need a lot of each, and I'm glad the bag Tomoya had given me is so huge. The stocking only fills the bag halfway.

Next is peppers, which are on the other side of the human wall. Fortunately, there's a lot of open ground behind the pushing and shoving people. I'm pressed against the beets, and I reaffirm my resolve. Hayashi had said those giant leaps were simply a matter of timed release. So if I crouched down, gather my energy, aim it towards my legs, and...

I actually catch the buzzing of chakra, this time, and manage to focus on the chakra that's moving through my body rather than sitting around. This time, there's no explosion, just a jump. A big jump. A really, _really_ big jump. I'm sent flying through the air, up over the heads of the aggressive shoppers, up, up, up...

Up, straight into the ceiling.

I hit with a heavy _thump_ and ricochet off the plaster, dropping like a bag of potatoes to the ground, where I bounce for a few feet. Every part of my body hurts, and the only silver lining to this is the fact that none of my hard-earned veggies have been crushed or tossed out of my bag.

The sudden flying seven-year-old is, naturally, cause for alarm. I get a small crowd around me, around the time I notice my peppers on the cold shelf.

"What on earth...?"

"Don't these Academy students know not to throw around their chakra in a crowded room? The nerve!"

"Are they okay?"

"Young man! Young man, are you alright?"

A wrinkled hand is reaching out for the last three red bells. I make a choice.

My chakra goes into one leg, and before I even manage to get my balance, I'm shooting forward and grabbing those peppers before that old biddy can even_ touch_ them. I manage to use my other arm to stop my movement, before I break through the wall of the fridge. I'm getting the hang of this - I must have been forced to use less power because my energy was going into only one limb.

I had used only one limb before, too, but...I didn't quite catch the buzz of chakra, before. Does that mean I had gotten my chakra from somewhere else? Such as...

I stare in horror at my hand. Such as _from the rest of my body_. It's a miracle I hadn't become soup from that blast, in that case. Shouldn't they have warned me about that? 'Watch out, you might enter into mass cell decay and die if you keep using your chakra like that'? What would they have done if I hadn't figured out how to differentiate my cell chakra from my coil chakra? Seriously, guys.

"Such a rude child!" The old woman I had snatched the peppers from spits.

I stick my tongue out at her and go on with my shopping trip.

Other items I needed include onions, garlic, enough leeks for a lifetime supply of miso soup, mushrooms, and tomatoes. By the end of my quest, I'm dragging the bag around the store and thanking god I had picked up non-squishable vegetables first. I place the tenth sweet potato in my bag with an air of finality, and realize that I'm at the back of the store, and there is a large crowd and a great deal of ground between my location and the entrance. My bag is overflowing; I'm not sure it can take the jostling.

"Need a hand?" A familiar voice asks. I look up to see an angel, sent by the god of grocery stores, his very image accompanied by a holy chorus. His Konoha headband glows in the lights like a halo.

"Hayashi-_saaaaaan_," I whine. "_Save meeeeee_."

He blinks at me. "Ohh. Do I know you?"

...Whoops. Forgot about the two-faces issue. No one else knew, and Tomoya pretends that he doesn't know, so I never felt the particular need to change back to my original face.

"Uhm...I saw you when you were bringing in that kid?" I try.

He breaks out into a huge grin. "Oho! So you go to the same orphanage? Are they adapting well?"

"All they do is study ninkana," I say casually. His eyebrows shoot up.

"They're interested in becoming a ninja?"

"I guess. They don't do much besides looking into those scrolls the older kids read, though."

"Hm...Well, as thanks for the information, I shall rescue you from these rabid hordes! Off we go!" He picks my bag up like it's made of air and picks me up onto his shoulder. From my new vantage point, I can see that his headband isn't over his forehead, like it was when he delivered me to the orphanage - it's drawn back like a big hairband. It definitely contributes to his image.

He takes me across the store by jumping on top of the shelves and running across them until he gets to the other side. It's a fairly simple way to get there, but it's also a whole lot of fun. I giggle as we run over the heads of the shoppers, and let out a little 'whoop' when we land back on the ground.

"There we are. Who's taking care of you, then?"

"Tomoya-san." I look around for said caretaker, and see him sneakily reaching under a man's stomach to get what looks to be his sixth loaf of bread. I point him out, and Hayashi, interestingly, narrows his eyes. This is a complete 180 from last time.

"Heya, Tomo-chan!" He calls._ Definitely_ a 180. Tomoya flinches and glares in his direction with an acidity I haven't ever seen from him. "I thought you had resigned yourself to book-keeping!"

He storms over to us at startling speeds, considering the fact he's currently carrying _four_ full shopping bags and has the muscle mass of a limp noodle, and quickly sweeps me up in his arms. "Terrorizing children, are you?"

"Isn't that you? Or was it the other way around?" Hayashi grins and cocks his head at him. "I just carted him over here. He looked like was having trouble."

Tomoya glances at me for confirmation. When I nod, he relaxes. I wonder if he's worried about Hayashi finding out about the coin? Granted, I'm pretty scared of it too; they might_ 'cart'_ me all the way up to some secret ninja strike branch and attempt to reverse-engineer the HDC's coin stamp, guaranteeing I never see the light of day again. I would greatly like if Tomoya was the only one to know about my dual identities, forever, until my dying day.

"Big shopping trip?"

"Just holding the pantry over. The children are beginning to tire of rice, and we're expecting a few guests tomorrow. Natsume-kun is helping me get lots of good, healthy food."

"How the great have fallen," He muses.

Tomoya looks a little distant, and his eyes lose focus for a half-moment, but then he just rolls his eyes and goes a little pink in the cheeks. "_Well._ Genin isn't 'great'. I hadn't even had one C mission."

"And a B mission...?"

"Which our sensei single-handedly took care of. Is this what you gossip about at those outposts? The careers of people who have nothing to do with you?"

"Of course not! I just have a..._personal_ interest." Hayashi gives him a predatory smile, and I could have _sworn_ he was hitting on him, but then I spare a glance at Tomoya, and the possibility of this being an unwanted romantic advance flies out the window. All the colour has drained out of his face, and he's looking firmly at the ground. His jaw is fixed so tight I wonder if he might break his teeth from the force.

Did something happen to him when he was a Genin?

(Also, Tomoya was a Genin? _Neat._)

"...Well, that isn't any of your concern. I am quite happy taking care of children, without worrying about any of that awful combat business." He raises a shaky hand out to Hayashi. "Now, may I have my groceries?"

"Oh, yeah. Sure thing." He passes them over, but doesn't take his hand away as the straps fall into Tomoya's palm. "...I need to do a follow-up with that kid. Is tomorrow alright?"

Tomoya tilts his chin up. "...Tomorrow is class day."

"Day after then. First thing, after breakfast." Hayashi looks between him and I, then gives me a wink. "Couldn't have a better person to look after you. Take care, now."

Tomoya doesn't move, even long after Hayashi turns the corner, off and out of sight. His grip on the bag is tight, stressed, and a little shaky. The hand around my leg that's holding me against him, however, is still soft and and gentle. Even in his stressed-out trance, he's careful with me.

After a few careful, trembling breaths, he manages to shake himself out of it.

"S-sorry, Natsume-kun. I was just..." He shakes his head. "Nothing. He just reminded me of something bad. Let's go buy all these veggies, alright?"

I look at him, at the slightly frantic look in his eyes and the whiteness of his knuckles on the hand holding the bag. I give him a slow, deliberate nod.

"Sure."

* * *

><p><em>AN: <em>_In a universe where a graduated Genin can not know what the heck chakra is (Naruto...why...), I'd imagine the beginning resources are vague 'mind+physical energy and how it helps your body' stuff, and it gets a little more detailed as you go up in grades._


	4. Blood Clan

_AN: I guess I was being a little too subtle about it, but Alex literally identifies as agender. The funky body and 'Natsume' face will come up again in this context. They aren't 'unknown gender', they are 'no gender'._

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 4: Blood Clan<strong>

* * *

><p>After the age of eight, you have the option to take an independence test, where you can live without the care of the orphanage in the low-income apartments nearby. You'd still be linked to the orphanage until you turned fifteen, but you have much more legal freedoms. Those aged eight to ten have to live with a roommate or two, but that's mostly because social development is so important to young kids, and also because there are only so many apartments that can be given out before Konoha runs out of them.<p>

The orphans are heavily affected by the mentality of the orphanage, even the ones who decide they wanted to follow their own path. Wakahisa Yukinori founded this orphanage, and his legacy is passed down to the children that this place has saved. Most other orphanages would give their kids the surnames of fallen shinobi, but here, we're given his name. Even those who remembered their past and their lineage would request a name change, to start fresh. The name becomes part of us.

For clans, carrying your surname makes you a _part_ of something, the new and improved latest addition of the clan. You're expected to be part of a united entity, like patriotism lite. And that mentality seeps into this orphanage too. We're given the name 'Wakahisa', and those who aren't will take on 'Wakahisa' out of solidarity with their peers. Their family. Their clan.

Even after becoming independent, the mentality is prevalent. Even after separating from the orphanage, they never stop being a Wakahisa. As they grow, they pass on their love for the place they grow up in, the people they grew up _with_.

The blood of the covenant is stronger than the water of the womb.

And tonight, Tomoya tells me, this Wakahisa clan of blood _unites_.

* * *

><p>"IF I SEE YOU STEALING FROM HIS PLATE ONE MORE TIME I'LL RAP YOUR KNUCKLES SO HARD THEY BLEED," one of the older caretakers - Michiyo - screams over the dearth, while simultaneously attempting to place a two-year-old toddler into their chair. A few children scream, and Tomoya barely manages to catch a six-year-old who thought it would be a great idea to fling himself onto the food-covered table. Three more caretakers rush to feed the increasingly agitated kids still waiting for their dinner.<p>

I look over the dining hall in distant horror. This orphanage is pretty big, I knew, but_ holy shit_. When Tomoya told me that the kids usually came back around for the anniversary of the orphanage's creation, I thought it would be a small party, not the _apocalypse_. I'm suddenly and viscerally aware that this is a very..._low-class_ organization, and decorum was never a huge priority. Child management, however, is.

"Yukie! CATCH!" Tomoya flings the six-year-old with pinpoint accuracy to one of the visiting Independents, who catches him and spins him into his seat, before quickly removing an infant from the arms of a dirty child and giving them to Michiyo. Another of the Independents comes in with wet wipes to clean up some of the more grievously filthy kids. Nami, the youngest of the caretakers at sixteen, runs back and forth across the room with a broom, cleaning up the mess as it's made.

"_Shit_," I say in English.

I'd arrived a little later than usual, since I was picking up speed in my ability to read ninkana and got a little excited over the scrolls. Dropping in late usually isn't a problem but...shit. Just,_ shit_. I'm not even sure if there's a chair to sit in now.

I take a few steps out of the room, and nearly trip over a kid crouched near the door; Magara Kumoki. He's still wearing that black suit.

"Hey. You're not going in?" I ask. Probably a stupid a question. _I'm_ not. The prospect of entering that catastrophe is pretty low on things I want to do right now.

Kumoki glances up, and I'm forced to stare at his big glassy mask eyes. I'm not sure if I'm impressing a personality onto a blank slate, but he seems a little vulnerable, just then. I remember the soft, delicate nature of his voice, and wonder if I shouldn't have talked to him a little more. I'd at least have gotten a little practice reading him.

He doesn't say anything, as usual, only looks back down at the floor and retains his ball-like shape, with his knees tucked firmly against his stomach. Cold.

"Oh, Natsume-kun!" Tomoya stumbles out of the room looking more flustered than ever. "Are you not going to eat right now?"

"I, uh. I'm not hungry right now..." I hedge.

"Excellent! Can you help me dish out the second servings? Even with the extra hands, I'm having a little trouble," he laughs breathlessly.

I glance down at Kumoki, still curled up by himself. "And him?"

"Kumoki-kun doesn't deal with crowds well. He won't handle other people's things either. Mostly because, well..." Tomoya tilts his head to look past me, at Kumoki. His face is as unreadable as Kumoki's mask. "...Well, it doesn't matter. Kumoki will eat once everyone's calmed down, that's all."

Okay, something's up with this kid, and the caretakers know it. Now I really wish I had been more social with him. "Fine. What am I dishing out?"

Tomoya takes me to the kitchen, and it's almost as bad as the dining hall. Independents and caretakers are cycling huge dishes full of food, and some are taking back bowls and plates to be washed. There's a ramshackle compost bin on the righthand wall now, where they're scraping off unfinished food.

"I'm wondering if the veggies were really enough," I joke weakly.

"Oh, it's generally tradition for the Independents to bring their own dishes, along with helping us with the kids. They just get so _excited_ when parties are involved. Yukie brought some firecrackers and sparklers, so we'll be playing out in the yard after dinner, alright?" Tomoya gathers up what looks like a casserole for an army and indicates that I should pick up the salad bowl that's almost as big as I am.

"Is it always this wild on the anniversary?"

"Oh, definitely, definitely. Just like the family coming together, you know? Orphans are a fairly common occurrence, in hidden villages, so-" he grunts with the effort of readjusting his grip on the heavy casserole, switching to holding it up on his shoulder. "-So they seek out family, this way. It's important to them to remember they have a group to connect to. Unfortunately, having that connection reaffirmed makes them a little...you know, _rambunctious_."

"Hmm." Makes sense. The clan analogy fits the letter better than I thought.

Tomoya looks back at me with a smile. "This is also_ your_ family, you know? As long as you're a Misplaced Child, you can't be adopted. It's alright to join in the fun now and again."

I pass by the curled-up Kumoki into the roaring dining hall. Kids I've played with, kids I've helped, kids I never met, kids who have helped me, all clustered together, screaming and talking and laughing and crying.

Family.

"I'VE GOT SALAD!" I yell over their voices, and they cheer at me in response.

* * *

><p>"I'm never going to walk again," I groan.<p>

Tomoya laughs and takes the empty serving dish from the table to join the dishes piled up by the sink. They had started on washing them over time, so it's thankfully not a _grievously_ huge pile. These people sure know how to avoid pile-ups.

"Broken down already, newbie? You'll never be a ninja with stamina like that," Yukie snorts, even though he's relaxing in a chair himself. Yukie is nearly fourteen, and his most notable feature is probably his mid-length white hair that covers his eye - it's the only reason I can pick him out of a crowd. Unlike the usual subtle shades of dark blue and moss green, white hair is pretty rare to see amongst hair colour mutations, and Yukie is the second person out of countless citizens I've seen sporting it.

He's also apparently a Genin himself, based on how the other orphans were gossiping. I would assume he learned some special ninja techniques on controlling body temperature, because despite the fact it's pretty toasty in the house, he's still wearing a padded coat. If I were him, I'd be sweating bullets.

Actually, speaking of unique chakra usages...

"Then can you teach me how to manage my energy better? I can read ninkana, so if you have any higher grade textbooks..." I suggest.

"Are you saying that_ you_, the kid who is _not_ attending the Academy, have been learning Academy staples? Suspicious," Yukie drawls.

"I may or may not have lifted a few textbooks for educational purposes."

Tomoya gives me a sharp look.

Yukie bursts into laughter and smacks the table. "What's with that? Getting a little uppity for an outsider, huh?"

I shrug. "I don't have any memories besides living here. I don't feel much like an outsider."

"No memories?" Yukie leans forward curiously. "Is it a jutsu, you think?"

I shrug. "I'm going to have it checked out tomorrow."

"Scary~ Maybe you're a spy for Kumo!" Yukie teases.

I cock my head, thrown in for a loop. "...For...Kumoki?"

"Not Kumo as in 'spider', Kumo as in 'cloud'. You know, Hidden Village of the Clouds? That place in the Land of Lightning? Two countries away? Full of huge dickholes?"

Tomoya chucks his wooden spoon across the room. It fulfills a beautiful spinning arc, concluding with a violent connection with Yukie's head. "As in _the hidden village Konoha is currently allied with, and thus has no reason to plant spies in orphanages_?"

"That's the one," Yukie says, rubbing his head.

I look between them, gears spinning. "Hidden villages...they're like ninja villages, right? So there's more than one? Why are there civilians?"

"It's like how factory towns grow," Tomoya sighs, also taking a seat. "The village was originally founded on ninja clans, but not everyone wants to become a ninja, and civilian work is a very large part of a sustainable town. It would collapse, otherwise."

"Everybody's got a hidden village, you know? Well, not_ everybody_, but like...A lot of countries, right. The biggest ones are the five elemental nations." Yukie holds up an open palm and counts them off his fingers. "Land of Fire, Land of Lightning, Land of Water, Land of Earth and Land of Wind. Big guys. Have been at war with all of them at least once."

"Sounds complicated," I say.

"Well, you give people the ability to manipulate reality using their physical energy, shit happens. You see this?" Yukie raises his hand and I can feel the buzz of his chakra going to his hand. In a few seconds,_ snow_ begins to flutter up from it. He concentrates, and it intensifies a bit. Seemingly satisfied with the output, he drops his hand and points at me. "At least ten people_ died_ so I could live to do that. And then, there are some countries that just _waste_ their bloodline users after. But no, not Konoha. One of the reasons I got solid promoted to Genin was because I have the ability to shit snowflakes."

"Language," Tomoya chastises.

That sounds sort of familiar. I think I might have read it in one of the scrolls. "Bloodline?"

"The abilities limited to a bloodline, Bloodlimit. Certain clans have genetically _weird_ chakra." He outstretches one finger to demonstrate his snowflakes again. "This is part of the Snow Release. Konoha forced my birth to investigate the abilities of the clan, but since it doesn't technically do anything, they lost interest. Now that the war is over, it's like...what's the point? Shit's useless."

Tomoya raps him over the head with the spoon again. "_Language_."

"Yeah, yeah...Listen, war leads to some pretty god-awful stuff, you know? If you're gonna become a ninja, you have to steel yourself for murder, espionage, seduction, torture, intelligence-gathering...all sorts of stuff." Yukie leans on his hand and sighs. "Well, nowadays all there is to do for a Genin is rebuilding the Land of Fire and...I don't know,_ gardening_."

"Not nearly as appealing as must people make it sound," I say.

"It's why I retired," Tomoya says lightly.

I'm honestly a little disappointed. The introduction of Bloodlimits really had me going for a second there, but chakra seems less impressive than I had originally thought. While I still want to learn how to use it for basic utility's sake, the glamour of advanced ninja techniques simply isn't as...well, _glamourous_. What's the point of leaping huge distances if all you use it for is getting cats out of trees and, as Yukie put it, 'shitting snowflakes'?

Kind of a let-down.

The conversation slowly eases into Yukie's ninja duties, and I eventually lose interest. Now that I'm a little less run down, I'm anxious to wander, and I remember Tomoya's comment about the fireworks. Well, pretty lights is a solid way to drive away a child's boredom.

The orphanage is quiet, now that everyone's flocked outside, and I instinctively take soft, careful steps to match the atmosphere. None of the lights are on except the ones in the hallway, casting weird shadows and letting in moonlight in the empty rooms. It always feels _weird_ walking around this place at night, in ways I don't quite know how to describe. It's something similar to anxiety.

A figure moves in one of the rooms.

I stop and take a few steps backward to see. Small figure. One of the orphans?

"Hello?" I call.

The figure moves, and moves out from behind a box of toys. I can't see any of their features, but based on the pronounced creases on their silhouette, I'm guessing it's Kumoki.

"Kumoki, right? You want to go play with the sparklers with us?"

The figure shuffles forward a bit, then takes a few nervous steps. Yep, Kumoki. He looks a little frazzled. I didn't even know this kid knew what frazzled _was_.

"You don't have to play with everyone else. It's just sparklers," I continue, hoping to fish him out of the room. What is he even _doing_ in here?

"...Un." Kumoki follows me down the hall, out into the yard. Upward of seventy kids are scattered around, some sitting in groups, some running around, some playing with sparklers, some playing with_ fireworks_. Is that even legal, here? That feels really illegal.

Michiyo is sitting by the sparkler boxes, so I take Kumoki over to her and pick out some rainbow sparklers. I pass him one, and she lights the both of them for us. It's definitely not a normal sparkler; I can feel static-like chakra dancing around in the thin core, which is probably why it's regurgitating rainbow sparks with such uncomfortable ferocity.

I wave mine around in circles, watching it flow out like a comet's tail. Kumoki just stares at his. I prod him and wave mine around in a more educational up-and-down manner, and he rigidly copies my movement. I go side to side, and he does too. I spin it around in circles, and he moves accordingly. After a steady cycle of different arm movements, he gets the hang of it, and starts waving it around on his own.

"Natsume!" One of the kids scream at me. I whip around with my sparkler to face Toro, who is also wielding a chakra-enhanced rainbow sparkler. "Fire swordfight!"

"What?"

"_Fire swordfight_!" he makes a sign with one hand and wields the sparkler like a rapier with the other. Oh- _Oh_.

I wield mine like a katana and wriggle my feet into the ground in preparation for a duel. Toro dives forward and strikes, and I do a flashy pirouette and whap him on the back of his neck. He lets out a little shriek.

"The sparks _tickle_!"

"Then don't get hit," I tease.

"Are you like a ninja?" One of the six-year-olds ask in awe of my sparkler-fighting prowess.

"He doesn't have a headband, so he's not," a seven-year-old scoffs with the grim self-satisfaction only a child could manage.

"Oh yeah?" I jump back and untie the blue sash from Toro's waist.

"_Hey_!" He whines.

"Who's not a ninja now!" I wrap his sash around my head like a headband, probably pretty poorly, but it works for now. "Now, I'll fend all of you losers off!"

They scream, and I scream, and then everyone's running and screaming and waving rainbow sparklers around like a baby pride parade. Kumoki seems to be unaware of the chaos, still waving his sparkler around mildly with stiff, jerky arm movements. Well, at least he's having fun, in his own way.

I'm about to slay Yaruhiko (Toro's plum-haired second-in-command), when the inevitable happens; one of the fireworks misfires, straight through the front gate of the orphanage and into the night streets.

Everybody freezes. A few kids go 'oohhhhh' and cover their face with their palm.

The firework _explodes_.

Everybody screams, and everyone floods back into the building, laughing and shoving. A few stay behind to see if there's any fallout, or maybe just to see the erratically-firing sparks. Michiyo groans, long and loud. Toro and his crew huddle by the door, ready to escape if needed, but mostly wanting to see what's going to happen next. Kumoki doesn't even _react_. He really likes that sparkler.

"Uh...I'll go see the damage," I suggest.

"Thanks. I'm gonna see if I can control these little monsters." Michiyo marches into the building, leaving me, the unflappable Kumoki, Toro's crew, and the few stragglers alone in the yard. Well, looks like I'm the adult here. I march out of the gate and look to see how much damage the misfired firework did.

Surprisingly, as it turns out, not much. The road is dirt, and it definitely got scorched, but there's stone underneath. The opposite wall is also made of stone, and is the blessed backside of a building, meaning there's no extra bits or windows to break. The offending firework is a smaller tube with a cap shaped like a dragon, and while it's still vomiting sparks that even the sparkler (that I'm still holding) couldn't contest with, it appears to be finished raining chaos onto the street. I pick it up with two fingers and hold it out at arm's length.

I almost think I'm out of hot water, but then I hear running footsteps, and turn to see a small dark-haired, dark-eyed boy about my age standing at the corner of the street, looking alarmed. I had thought fireworks had a pretty distinct sound, but he seems like he's ready for war. Kid seriously needs to chill.

"We were having a party," I explain awkwardly, "And someone fired it wrong."

"Aren't those illegal?" He asks.

"Probably," I say.

We stand there awkwardly, me wielding spark-dispensing items in each hand, him sort of just...standing there, with clenched fists, looking desperately like he wants to say something. I look back through the gate at the interested orphans, then to the kid again.

"You want a sparkler?" I ask.

"Okay," he says.

I go back into the yard and give the dying firework to Toro's group - who immediately starts playing catch with it - and grab a box of sparklers. The kid follows me hesitantly, looking around the yard like it's some foreign castle. It's honestly a little funny to watch.

"This is an orphanage?" He asks, peering at one of the trees in our yard. "It looks like an estate."

"Wakaga...Wakahizza..." Toro attempts, but he's too distracted by passing the firework to concentrate on his mouth. "It used to be an estate but now it 'aint."

"Now it 'aint," I conclude. I give him the box, and he takes it carefully.

"...It's got chakra in it?"

"Yeah. It's like..." I fiddle with my sparkler, which is on its last legs, spouting as much sparks as Yukie can spout snow. (i.e. not a lot.) I can still feel the chakra in it, though. "Like static, but moving really fast. I'm not sure how it works."

"It's a type of seal." He points at the picture on the box. I squint and - oh, yeah, there's some writing on the sticks. I look at my own sparkler, and sure enough, there it is. I don't know a lot about these effect-based seals, but that's pretty neat. I'll have to find some scrolls on them, sometime.

"I don't know much about jutsu and seals and stuff, so," I shrug.

"Every ninja should," he grumbles.

"What makes you think I want to be a ninja?" I retort.

He looks questioningly at the band around my head. Oh yeah. Forgot about that.

"Yeah, well, anyway, nothing to see here, obviously. Off you go." I shoo him, and he makes a face at my dismissal.

"D-don't fire any more of those-" he tries to say, but one of the kids has tired of sitting around waiting for something to happen and assaults the poor boy with a leaping hug.

"You wanna play with us? Pleaaase_ pleasepleaseplease_!"

"No! I have to go home! Let _go_ of me!" He squawks. I laugh at his flailing attempts to throw off the excitable orphan, but he finally manages to escape with a full-body toss. Despite being slammed onto the ground, the kid giggles and rolls around in the dirt, like it's the most fun they've had in ages. The boy looks slightly alarmed.

"Sorry. All they think about is playing. Horrible, I know. So, see you later." I wave a little more kindly, and he gives me a brisk nod.

"Y-yeah. Thanks for the, uh. Sparklers." He shakes the box mildly and takes a few steps back. When no one else jumps him, he turns around and runs out the gate. There's a symbol of a fan on his back, and my memory_ spikes_, I _know_ what that is, I _recognize_ that, but instead of a tangible fact all I get is pain and frustration. Then he's gone, and I feel a little empty inside.

I look behind me. The firework has finally died out, but that doesn't deter Toro and his friends from tossing it around. Kumoki's sparkler is dead too, and he stares at forlornly, occasionally flicking it like sudden motion might produce the desired effect. The extra kids, figuring there's not much left to do, are filing back into the building.

Well. That was an interesting ten minutes.

* * *

><p><em>AN: Yukie is an experimentation with the idea that it's very unlikely that all Bloodlimits are inherently useful. I'm sure there are some people with weird chakra abilities that don't really do much. Somewhere, there's a clan with a YinYang Bloodlimit that lets them have teeth that never get cavities._


	5. Waking Up

_**Warning:** Violent/graphic language with cluster curses and all caps._

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 5: Waking Up<strong>

* * *

><p>Hayashi comes to pick me up the next day.<p>

I make sure to sneak out the window and circle around the building until I can find a place to hide. I chose a bush next to the wall, and crouch down as low as I can, thankful that everyone is usually still inside this early in the morning.

I pick at the bindings on my arm until I find the end and carefully unwind it until the coin is visible. For the first time in what feels like an eternity, I remove the coin from my wrist. My hair flows down softly, and I can feel my face change. Different weight, different amount of light let in...

Different clothes?

I eye the dark jacket I'm wearing suspiciously. I had been wearing a high-collared black shirt just now. These are...the clothes I had been wearing when I first arrived. The clothes I had _taken off_ and put in my cubbyhole. The clothes that should still be in my cubby hole, right now.

Curiousity beats caution. I fly across the yard, skid in front of the orphanage, and attempt to run through it as fast as humanly possible. A few kids and caretakers let out exclamations of alarm, but I ignore them. I'm suspicious now, and if something can give me the upper hand...

I skid into the dorms and throw my bedroll out, revealing my storage space behind it. The cubby holes are about as deep as most closets are tall, and big enough for me to crawl inside and sort through my things.

There it is. My outfit. The one I'm wearing right now. It even has the same dirt smudge on the trousers. My clothes had been copied onto the new body, and the clothes I had been wearing were conveniently stuck to my original face.

Experimentation is necessary.

I throw a necklace one of the younger kids had given me last week around my neck and put the coin back on. My face and clothes switch, as expected. I feel around my neck, and...the necklace is gone. I take the coin off, and switch back. Necklace is there.

The extra face means an entire extra storage space, on my body. Oh boy, am I ever going to abuse the_ shit_ out of this.

"Uhm..." A voice interrupts my glee. I shuffle backwards until I'm all the way out, and turn to see a relieved Tomoya and a curious Hayashi. "Hayashi is here!"

"Hey," I grunt. I put the bedroll back and stand up. "So what are we doing again?"

"We're going to see what jutsu might have been placed on you. You're far too lucid for the amnesia to be physical," Hayashi explains. "You've been cleared to stay in Konoha based on the confirmation that you have no memory and your behaviour with that in mind."

"Behaviour?"

"You _really_ suck at using chakra," Hayashi says blandly. I scowl at him. "Plus, the way you reacted to the outpost. Didn't look for exits, concentrated on random items, blah blah, whatever. Basically, non-threat. This follow-up is more for your health than any actual suspicion."

"You guys are thorough," I observe.

"Ninjas," he shrugs.

Tomoya gives me a box lunch and a pat on the head. I follow Hayashi out, and note the suspicious look he gives the scorched earth just outside the gate, where the firework had detonated. I very carefully avoid eye contact for the next few blocks. As far as I knew, chuunins were basically psychic.

We move down some streets I'm unfamiliar with for a while, then we hit a road I recognize as the one we originally took to get to the intelligence bureau. My guess is that I'm going to meet that long-haired woman again. And those unforgiving concrete hallways. I shiver involuntarily at the thought.

Hayashi takes me in, and talks to the secretary this time, saying he has an appointment with 'Yamanaka Hiori'. I shuffle my feet nervously, waiting for the woman to confirm. Hiori and Hayashi are clearly friends (she said something about teammates before); he probably used his relationship with her as an excuse to give me a quick check-up and get rid of me. It seems like something someone who loathes paperwork would do.

When the appointment is confirmed, Hayashi takes me through those terrible hallways again.

"So, what's your name?" He says casually. "I didn't catch it."

I _almost_ say Natsume, but then I remember that Tomoya had already called me Natsume with the other face, and I stumble with possible names and my true name until I somehow manage to regurgitate "Korroato."

"Koroto?" He repeats. "Odd name."

True, considering it's a muddled pronunciation of a non-Japanese word. I just shrug and look away.

Well, on one hand, now I have a weird name I'm not sure I'm even going to remember. On the other, I can officially name each face easily; Koroto for the androgynous one, Natsume for the orphan one. I suppose 'Alex' works as a bracket name for all involved faces. It'll certainly help me manage them better. Any memorization techniques are good techniques.

While I was lost in thought planning usages for my double-face trait, Hayashi had already brought me to the desired location - a small interrogation room, featuring a table with two chairs, Yamanaka sitting at one of them. Nervously, I sit at the other.

"Hello again. I'm going to scan your brain for memory-wiping jutsu," she says politely. "After that, I'll examine your body for seals."

I'm glad I'm not wearing any coins in this state. I don't want to explain _that_.

She reaches out to touch my forehead, and I can feel chakra again, that gross intrusive feeling that makes me flinch a bit. Hayashi firmly grips my shoulder. I try not to move as I can _feel_ her move inside my brain.

"No foreign signatures," she says. She removes her hand and performs a few of those familiar hand signs, then touches my head again. This time it's not just a chakra buzz; it's_ targeted_. It feels woven, cleaned, and purified, and hitting my head with pinpoint precision. I wince at the severity.

She holds her position on my head, and the tinkering dies down a bit. Then, slowly, she removes her hand, eyes staring unseeingly at the point between the table and my collarbones. She stays like that for a few seconds before finally snapping out of it.

"...I can't feel anything."

"So it's a seal?"

"Probably. Still, it's weird...If it were a seal, I should have been able to detect it on the first sweep."

"A good seal."

Yamanaka purses her lips and stares at me. I fiddle with the hem of my coat and try to look non-threatening.

"...I'll give them a quick look-over. What's your name?"

"Koroto," I mumble.

"Okay. Can you take your clothes off for me? I need to check your body for any seals or curses. It'll only take a minute or two."

I remove my coat, shirt, and pants, leaving me in my underwear. She thankfully does not ask me to remove those too, and starts turning me around, lifting one arm, then the other, then examining the legs. She parts my hair, takes off my shoes to look at the feet, opens my mouth and uses a small light to look at my tongue and the roof of my mouth, then all my teeth...

"Shit." She stands up abruptly and shoots a grim look at Hayashi. "I_ told_ you this was weird."

"You didn't find anything?" He asks, suddenly on edge.

I go rigid with panic. Is that bad? Am I going to be detained? Put in prison?_ Dissected_?

"It's likely a one-hit affective jutsu. Whatever hit them, it would have to be permanent. If they're an amnesiac now, they're going to _stay_ an amnesiac."

Hayashi rubs his chin, looking worn down. "Damn...if something like this exists near Konoha, we're going to have to tell the Hokage about it."

"Pain in the ass," she mumbles.

"Am I going to be in trouble?" I ask weakly, looking between the two of them. Hayashi gives me a lopsided smile.

"Nah, registering all the techniques people can use is just annoying. If I had to guess, you were probably an experiment, or an unfortunate witness. You're totally clean, for now."

I let out a sigh of relief and immediately move to put my clothes back on. Yamanaka and Hayashi talk to each other in hushed whispers, discussing something-or-other. I want to mention the HDC, but there's no way to do that without mentioning the book and the coins. Besides, the HDC sounds _unreasonably_ powerful, and I doubt it's on a chuunin's pay grade to go against them.

"I'll take you back now," Hayashi says brightly. I nod, too shaken to really say anything in reply.

* * *

><p>We circle around so that the route cuts through the park. It's a free day today, so there's more kids scattered around. Hayashi seems to be looking for somebody specifically, but since I don't know who he'd want to find, I just look for Wakahisa orphans. To my immense surprise, I find one.<p>

Kumoki.

_Sitting with someone._

The idea of the little reserved, robotic hazmat-suited kid doing something that could be interpreted as 'social' is frankly a little mind-blowing. He can, as far as I know, only say one word, and had trouble with the idea of playing with sparklers. Yet there he is, sitting peacefully by the trees, watching intently as another kid in a long jacket does something with the bushes. No,_ collecting_ something, and they bring their hand over to Kumoki to show him what's on it. I squint; they've got their hood up, so I can't see any features.

"You know how to get back from here, right?" Hayashi asks me suddenly. I jump a little and look back to him. He's staring off into the distance. I follow his gaze to see a ninja with short brown hair sitting on a bench, arms folded. It takes me a moment to realize that it's Ryouji, that jerkass who was giving me the hairy eyeball back at the outpost. I guess it's their day off today. Hayashi and Hiori had been talking pretty casually about him - Ryouji's probably a friend of theirs.

"Yeah. No problem."

Hayashi skips forward to meet with his partner, leaving me to my own devices. I continue staring at Kumoki. While I made a lot of - well, I wouldn't call them_ friends_, maybe 'close family' would be more appropriate - I had to admit Kumoki was interesting to me. After last night, especially. The thought of him being more tender than his featureless gas mask implied was kind of intriguing. I've gathered he's older than me, though not by much; he's probably about eight or nine.

The coated kid takes Kumoki by the wrist. Kumoki flinches, _hard_, but doesn't pull away. Overcoat places their fingertips onto Kumoki's, and then slowly separates them. Even from here, I can sort of tell that they're doing something with their chakra. I glance towards Hayashi and Ryouji, who are distracted with each other, and run off into the forest.

Once I'm sure I'm out of sight, I fish my coin out of my pocket and place it back onto my wrist. I switch back to my Natsume face and start picking my way across the tree roots until I'm close to where Kumoki and that kid are sitting.

"You can relax. They like you," Overcoat says. "...That's because?"

I crane my neck. Kumoki has quirked his head, indeed like he's asking a question.

"Your chakra is strong, even without reserves."

Kumoki looks down at his hands, where there are a multitude of bugs crawling over them. Those must be what Overcoat had taken off the bush. Apparently, they're the kind that like chakra. I don't have enough sense to detect inactive chakra, but I try to suppress mine anyway. Bugs are okay when there's one or two, but a whole bunch makes my skin crawl.

"When you get better, you can practice with them." Head tilt. "That's because, I'd like to train against you, as well."

So Kumoki is sick after all. I had figured as much with the isolated sleeping and eating arrangements, but wasn't quite sure if it was a physical problem. Overcoat seems to be a friend of his. I wonder if they're the reason Kumoki never shows up at the orphanage.

Kumoki outstretches his arms towards Overcoat, who takes the bugs back. They crawl up the kid's sleeves. _Yo_. Kumoki and Overcoat seem unperturbed, though, and I wonder if this has something to do with ninjutsu. I hope it does. I don't want to live in a world where a kid just sticks bugs up their sleeves because they can.

"I haven't made any progress with the new species. Sorry," Overcoat says, a little less composed.

Kumoki bows his head and shrugs. He's still staring at his hands.

"It's been improving until now. If I have more time, it'll be completed. A year. Maybe two." Kumoki doesn't tilt his head, but Overcoat still continues with "That's because, I enjoy it. I don't want to stop trying."

Kumoki makes a sound then, a soft almost-laugh that is so gentle and happy that my stomach twists in a terrible way. This probably isn't just _a_ friend, it's his _only_ friend. I know_ I_ don't have close friends, but that's just mental age at work. Kumoki straight up can't even communicate with others. It must be frustrating.

Feeling like I'm eavesdropping on something intimate now, I back off and keep hiking through the woods until I reach the edge of the park. When I emerge, I am body-checked by a familiar shaved head.

"Why are you still wearing my sash!" Toro demands furiously, or as furiously as one can demand with a big smile on their face.

"Because..." I kick him off and roll so I'm kneeling over him. "I'm a _ninja_!"

He yells and tries to sock me in the face, but I dodge easily and pull him into a noogie. Well, I may not have friends, but having a little brother is pretty good, too.

* * *

><p>Tomoya is waiting for us when we get home. He sends me a questioning look, and I grin in response. I'm still scared of what could have happened, but it didn't, and now all I have to worry about is this HDC group. <em>Watching<em> me. Hopefully for positive reasons, though I really doubt it. Either way, I can enjoy my life here peacefully until they decide to make contact, so I'd call it an even deal. I mean, the book _says_ they're rewarding me for living, right?

Satisfied that Hayashi had not inflicted any psychological harm, he hands me and Toro a few bags. "We're taking our leftovers to the Renewed Future Orphanage. They aren't getting as much money, recently, and need a hand."

The Renewed Future Orphanage is specifically designed for orphans of the Chakra Beast's attack. I still haven't gotten much information on it, mainly because a huge monster destroying most of your city and slaughtering half the population is a bit of a sensitive subject, but I had at least gotten that it's some sort of fox, and kind of a Big Deal. At least some of the information about that night is a protected secret. Most of the orphans at that orphanage are older than the ones at the Wakahisa orphanage, primarily because babies had a bad habit of dying around that point.

Tomoya takes me, Toro, and Nami as bag-holders, and Toro insists Yaruhiko comes too. Yaruhiko doesn't look pleased, but despite all the scowling, he still takes a bag and proceeds to slink behind Toro, doing his best to be ignored. Toro has a seriously weird taste in friends.

We're all brought down a side road that leads to the more thoroughly trashed and thus less thoroughly built area of town. Toro is a very tiny human, and can only hold one bag, but he does so with gusto, even down the steep incline as we enter the bowels of the city.

The orphanage itself isn't as ramshackle industry as the road leading to it is; much like ours, it's surrounded by a yard that has been long-since worn down by little orphan feet, and dotted by a few trees. It's relatively close to the wall, which casts a shadow that will probably cover the entire area by mid-afternoon.

Tomoya greets a caretaker at the door, and gestures for us to bring the food in. The orphanage is barely half the size of our own, and it takes all of three opened doors to find the kitchen. I gingerly place my bag on the counter, amd Toro chucks his with all his strength at the space between the counter and the cupboards. Nami catches it in mid-flight and gives him an acidic look. Yaruhiko drops the bag onto the floor and hides in the corner with a book, task complete.

Tomoya is still talking with the caretaker, so I wander the building. Most of the kids are still playing in the park, which is between our two orphanages, and I have heard rumours that they're allowed free reign on a huge area of the city. The only ones left are the absolute youngest, at six and seven. Toro and I look for them for completely different reasons.

There's a group of kids talking behind the building, and Toro flies at them like a torpedo, always eager to play with somebody. I hang back and look for a less _involving_ group. My eyes catch on an isolated child. After seeing Kumoki's bittersweet conversation, the idea of anyone under the age of ten being alone in any capacity sends a shock of anxiety down to my stomach._ Not allowed_. While I probably don't have a chance to be social with Kumoki until later tonight, I have a chance to be social with this random stranger. And as anyone who has met a child knows, there is no such thing as random strangers when it comes to seven-year-olds.

I approach them with a newfound determination and protective instinct. They're blond, short-haired, and drawing some elaborate-looking plan in the sand, with arrows and a map of what might be this orphanage. I clear my throat loudly, attracting their attention.

Blue eyes. Whisker-like marks, streaking across his face like blackened scars.

I'm overwhelmed with a sense of vertigo, but I still manage to say "Hi, I'm Natsume."

He frowns suspiciously at me, sticking his lower lip out, and my vision begins to tunnel. It's not like chakra exhaustion, though. It's worse. It's...

"I'm Naruto."

It's _SHIT MOTHERFUCKING SHIT_

I startle myself with the violence of the thought, and in that moment of vulnerability, my memory cracks open like an egg. Suddenly, every familiarity, every distant memory, every connecting thought and observation and _SHIT, SHIT, **SHIT**_

It's the main character of a_ FUCKING MANGA SERIES _that's familiar, part of a series _I HATE_ and_ GOD-AWFUL FANS SCREAMING IN MY EAR_ and_ FUCKING STEREOTYPICAL FANFICTION TROPES I CANNOT FUCKING** BELIEVE** THIS IS HAPPENING TO ME I DROPPED THIS SERIES SO LONG AGO YOU THINK YOU WOULD AFFORD SOME COURTESY AND PUT ME IN A SHOW I ACTUALLY LIKE YOU** PIECES OF**_

Distantly, I am aware that my head hurts a lot, and I am screaming a lot, but somehow the thoughts of petty anger and disgust manages to dominate both of these things.

_LET'S MEET THE NINE-TAILS HUMAN STORAGE UNIT, THAT'S GREAT, AND THEN I JOIN HIS TEAM AND SUCK ZABUZA'S DICK WITH THE REST OF THEM, CLEARLY, BECAUSE I'VE GOT TO FULFILL THE **TROPE BINGO **THANKS GUYS REALLY APPRECIATED WHY DON'T I JOIN THE AKATSUKI AND SAVE THE WORLD WHILE I'M AT IT FUCK THIS** GODDAMN ORGANIZATION  
><strong>_

I wheeze and hit the floor, shaking with rage and pain and a lot of confusion. It doesn't feel like I'm thinking this. It feels like I _already_ thought this, a long time ago, it feels like _someone else_ thought this, a long time ago. The echoing effect is really weird, and my head hurts so much, and the world just doesn't seem real anymore, even Naruto's hurt look and the kids yelling for help and Tomoya bursting out of the back door and running towards me and_ it hurts_.

The thoughts become too distorted to make sense. Tomoya grips my shoulder and holds me close to him.

I still can't stop screaming.

* * *

><p>I wake up on my bedroll knowing everything.<p>

My head's still throbbing. I feel like I've been gutted, and I suddenly understand everything at once. I crawl out of bed to my cubbyhole, and reach inside for my catalogue. I stare numbly at the pages, leaning on the shelf for support.

_Welcome to your brilliant new dimension. _I should have known.

_Birth certificate_ - do I have one here? Where is it? God, I should have realized _earlier_.

I'm in a fictional manga series. One I used to like, and then decided I didn't, at some point. I honestly can't tell; the memories are all locked up tight again, and I doubt I'll be able to access them. I can still remember that weird wave of _disgust_, and the echoing rant that seemed to be my thoughts but not. Apparently I was the kind of person to flip their shit about stereotypical fanfiction tropes? Good to know.

No, actually, it's not, that's actually really childish, even for a seven-year-old.

(Unless it's _because_ I'm a seven-year-old. I hope I grow out of it quickly.)

I stretch my limbs experimentally. They aren't as sore as my head, or my throat. I never want to feel that again, and I'm sure no one else does either, what with all the screaming and everything, but it had its uses.

I know _everything._

Okay, not everything. Not even close. But I do know a lot. I know about chakra and a few examples of jutsu, which completely decimate my previous assumption that it was all tree-hopping and whatever Bloodlimits are. Oh yeah, and those, too! I remember that Bloodlimits are pants-shittingly scary, and now I feel really bad for Yukie.

I remember that Akatsuki were the villains at some point, and there was a really good story arc where Naruto fights some Mist missing-nin on a bridge (_Zabuza_, I remember, and apparently past-me doesn't like the thought of being a part of that?) And then...exams? Some sort of exams. Chuunin! Chuunin exams, foreigners coming to take part. Large-scale attack on Konoha, by snake-themed villain.

I snap to attention.

No.

_No_.

Large-scale attack. On the whole village, where the orphanage is, where it's exposed and open for attack. If that happens - if Naruto is seven years old right now, then that means it will be in...six years? Six years before that comes to pass, before my orphanage is in danger and so many bad things happen at once. It was a big event, it _happened_, I remember it even if I don't remember anything else. If the Kyuubi attacked the village already, and Naruto exists, I have to assume events are already rolling.

It's a dimension orchestrated to my tastes, apparently. Of course it's going to happen. That's why I was so angry and disgusted with the situation. There's not a lot I can do to stop it; my memory of the manga had been spotty at best, even before this memory crease. How had I managed to read enough fanfiction about people experiencing this situation to be disgusted with the trope reference and not retained plot events? I should have concentrated more. I should have stopped being so petty. I shouldn't have fucked up so bad, in whatever way. I'm powerless and weak and don't have any ground point to work off of.

Because I don't know who I was then, but right now, I'm a_ citizen of Konoha_ and I know for a fact that it's going to be crushed in an attack.

In fact, I think I'm going to throw up.

I stagger out of the dorms and outside, into the yard and fresh air. Nausea isn't going away. I scratch at my head, trying to will that rush of memory back, because_ what if the orphanage gets destroyed_, but I can't do it. I can't do anything. Useless things like_ Sasuke leaves_ and_ Kakashi has a sharingan_ pop up at random, eager to be heard, but useless to me. I don't _care_ about what the characters do. I don't even know who the hell they are. I care about what happens to Konoha, to the Wakahisa orphanage and to Toro and Yukie and Kumoki and _Tomoya_. I need something that will help me_ save_ them.

A siren sounds over the village. I glance up to the sky and see figures flying across it. Slowly, carefully, I unlatch the front gate and peer out into the street. There are some chuunin running towards the uptown area, yelling commands.

"Circle the gates! See if we can catch the perpetrator before he escapes!"

"Checking for survivors is top priority!"

"This is someone who could wipe out the entire Uchiha clan,_ be careful_!"

"Do not confront the target! Hold position until ANBU support reaches you!"

The nausea intensifies, and I'm pulled into clarity as my memories finally move in ways I want them to.

Uchiha massacre. Sasuke is the only survivor. Itachi is the perpetrator. (Headache is coming back, and I'm definitely about to vomit.) Did it for good reasons? Doesn't matter. Sharingan good, sharingan powerful. Sharingan can save Konoha. What does a sharingan do? Can't remember, but it can help. Anything could help.

Fictional doesn't matter. Characters don't matter. Family matters.

If I can save Konoha, I don't care about anything else.

If I use Sasuke, I can protect Konoha.

If I use any number of powerful or soon-to-be-powerful ninja, I can protect Konoha.

I can _control_ this.


	6. Intermission (Hayashi Kiyomori)

**Chapter 6: Intermission (Hayashi Kiyomori)**

* * *

><p>Hayashi Kiyomori has been on outpost duty almost as long as he's been chuunin, which is a damn shame, but it brings in a nice salary and despite the company being terrible, he has more time to spend inside his own head. He likes to think to himself, now and then.<p>

Kiyomori's let loads of refugees and such into Konoha, of course. It's been thirteen years since the war, and nearly three since Konoha's been in any actual tense situation with other countries. The trauma of war leaves scars in the lot of them, but Kiyomori at least has some _sense_. You can't expect kids to be undercover ninja anymore. Even if they were, Konoha has precautions against it.

Normally he gives the refugees a quick scan from Hiori before throwing them at some form of registry, whether it be for Land of Fire citizenship, an apartment, some form of identification, an orphanage...anything that gives them a paper footprint. The extra security is worth the paperwork, no matter how much he doesn't like it.

He doesn't get the suspicion everyone else has.

But then there's this _kid_.

When they woke up, they looked like they were using their eyes for the first time. They seemed to _drink_ the scenery in, like every detail was being observed and committed to memory. Kiyomori recognized that look. It's the look you get after a battlefield. It's the look you get when you have it driven into you, _'If you don't observe your surrounds, you die'_.

But things don't line up. They didn't look for exits. Their eyes latched onto props like the table, cabinets, and wardrobe, rather than corners and edges, where traps are usually placed. They also seemed to be very _distanced_. Their interest was fleeting and lopsided, sliding around as the scenery changed, with no particular interest towards any one thing. Odd, a little creepy, and completely discounts his initial assumption.

It's not a conditioned response. It's an induced one. A complete blank slate.

Kiyomori groans into his hand at the memory of the follow-up inspection. Hiori is damn good at her job - of course she is, she's a Yamanaka - and if she says _no seal, no jutsu_, then that's the situation. But if it isn't a memory wipe jutsu Konoha has on record, there is _so much_ paperwork. He has to record everything, probably ask the kid to elaborate a little more...

Though, when he visited them after a month to get that very diagnosis from Hiori, they seemed lucid enough. That's...a relief? A relief, he supposes. It's good that whatever technique they'd been hit with, they can still recover and adapt. At least they've got a future. That's more than he can say about countless other genjutsu inflicted on children.

Kiyomori lays his head on the cool metal of the railing, staring blankly at his feet, then up over the village. He comes to the Hokage monument to mull things over when he doesn't have his own space in the outpost to hide in, gathering his thoughts as he looks over the village he grew up in. It's a bit of reaffirming, a bit of soul-searching. And when he's done...

Ugh. Paperwork. He _really_ does not want to go back down there.

"Brooding? How unlike you."

Kiyomori glances up to see...Tomoya. The caretaker he had given Koroto to, of course, but also one of the people that made the greatest impressions on him during the war. Kiyomori hadn't quite recognized him at first, since the last time he made eye contact was when they were both fifteen and Tomoya had sort of looked like a mummified corpse at the time, but it's definitely him. He knows that. And now he's planned for that.

He forces himself to put on an easy, un-affected smile that he practised in the mirror specifically to talk to this guy.

"My my. I thought you might start avoiding me."

Tomoya's eyes slide to Konoha, then back to Kiyomori. The gesture is oddly resonant with the detached way Koroto examined their bedroom. "...I don't have much of a reason to. We haven't quite met, after all."

"I thought making eye contact that one time ten years ago counted as meeting," Kiyomori says.

"A lot of people made eye contact," Tomoya says, grimly, affirming that he doesn't intend on keeping the mood light. Kiyomori drops the smile.

"You're worried about the kid."

"A little bit. They had an..._episode._" He glances back at Konoha again. "...The Uchiha clan is gone now."

Kiyomori doesn't question the topic change. People with Tomoya's background have a way of controlling the conversation, getting what they want out of the interaction, rather than actually connecting in any meaningful way. "Wiped out. Word is, that genius kid of theirs did it."

"There's one survivor. Barely seven years old." Tomoya leans on the railing. His face always looks worn and ill-coloured, but he looks even more wrung-out right now. "The orphanages are grappling for him to get funding. Clans are trying to snap him up early. He's probably going to start early Independence."

"Damn. Aren't there any reformers left to work him?"

Tomoya shrugs. "It's a dead art. Civilians didn't like mass-conditioning and manipulating the minds of impressionable children. I don't blame them."

"Do they have any_ other_ alternatives to ninjas in positions of personality-destroying trauma?" Kiyomori snorts. "He'd fail an independence test. They should _know_ that."

"They do. That's why they're not giving him one. He's taking a mental stability test, and if he's cleared, he'll just be dropped off." Tomoya narrows his eyes. "In all honesty, I think it's probably rigged. Mental disorders will make him more predictable. It's in the handbooks."

"_Damn_." Kiyomori thunks his head against the railing. "What about you?"

"They won't let me get anywhere near him. It'd be impossible for me to do anything about the situation."

"So, what are you telling this to a perfect stranger for?"

"I don't know," Tomoya sighs. "I'm not happy. I hoped I could feel a little better talking to someone about it. The war is over, isn't it? It was over thirteen years ago. Even if it's not that long, it should be _enough_. There's no need to treat our own like this, anymore."

"Some of them like war," Kiyomori shrugs.

"I don't."

They spend the next few minutes in silence, staring out over the village. The sun is steadily setting, and Kiyomori wonders if Tomoya needs to get back to the orphanage, or if anyone is covering for him. He doesn't really know much about the guy, beyond his personal history, career choice, and connection to Koroto (and that other one, Natsume). He technically doesn't have much of a reason to.

He doesn't _want_ a reason.

"You were there," Tomoya says quietly. "When I-"

"When you finally lost your shit and quit in the most violent manner imaginable?"

Tomoya glares at him.

"Yeah, I was there." Kiyomori scratches his head. "I was a little younger then, didn't really get it. Scared the hell out of me. Was convinced you were a huge weirdo up until it happened, and I was kinda terrified of you afterwards. Thought you were some sort of horror movie monster, if I remember correctly."

"Thanks," Tomoya says dryly.

"But I get it now," Kiyomori continues, "I get why. It hurts, right?"

Tomoya breaks eye contact.

"The children are the future of Konoha, you know? Don't need to feel ashamed about that."

"...Thanks."

Rather than stewing over his thoughts, Kiyomori stews over the village, over the feeling of colour staining the sky, and wind brushing against him, and having someone standing there at his side. It's been a long time since he's felt like this. He likes it, just a little.

Slowly, he recalls the difference in behaviour Koroto exhibited the two times Kiyomori had talked to them. And slowly, he remembers that this conversation had started out to be about them, before it switched tracks. Tomoya isn't a blank slate. Tomoya is edgy and twitchy, always has been, even when he was eleven years old and crouching in nooks and crannies during troop missions. if he suddenly guided the conversation away, then...

That Koroto kid is fresh, interesting, and probably up to something. Kiyomori can't resist.

"Hey, Tomoya, can I ask a favour?"

* * *

><p><em>AN: Short dose of character development for Hayashi and Tomoya and a little commentary on Sasuke's situation. 'Reformers' won't be looked at just yet, but it'll come back later.<em>


	7. Idle Mechanism

**Chapter 7: Idle Mechanism**

* * *

><p>The Uchiha Massacre casts a slowly growing shadow over Konoha.<p>

The orphans don't know anything the next morning, and don't understand why I've lost my appetite. I haven't eaten since breakfast yesterday morning, but I don't feel hungry right now.

I gather my ninkana research materials and leave the orphanage for the day, and that's when the darkness shows itself. Skittering glances, sickened looks, people with their hands over their mouths, people with tears in their eyes. Everyone seemed to have an acquaintance in the Uchiha clan, or know someone who did. It's a big group.

I sit in the park and coldly observe the empty area under the shade of my tree. It's a bright, sunny day, completely unsuited to the mood, and there's no kids here. There's no way anyone would let their kids wander around outside right now. The only reason I got out was because I had

I scratch my head. I'm still wearing Toro's sash as a headband. It grounds me a little, reminds me of what I want to do.

Save Konoha.

Well, saving an entire city is a bit of an excessive goal. I'm seven. When it happens, I'll be around thirteen. The war - whenever it happened - is over, and they simply have no need to promote children so quickly. There's no way I can do anything.

No, my goal is to make everyone strong enough to save it _for_ me.

It's not impossible. Uzumaki Naruto has barely any talent, and he manages to power his way through infinite dangers with nothing more than shadow clones and bold-faced determination. If I encourage my peers to excel, there will be_ way_ more resources to work with. It'll be easy to throw a few at the orphanage, maybe the more delicate areas of town. They won't be on extended missions outside of the city, they won't be busy with taking over the situation; they'll be Genin, and I can deploy them where they're needed.

Shedding responsibility like this makes me way less anxious about things. Six years, not to rescue a city from disaster, but to make a bunch of kids work hard. Not a lofty goal. I don't even need the flimsy, unreliable half-memories to do it! All I have to do is do as much research as possible into how chakra works and how it's used nowadays, and apply that information to help others overcome their weaknesses.

Hence, scrolls.

Right now, I'm interested in a particularly old scroll listed 'specialization'. Apparently, not everyone was good enough to pass general education during the war, but a few people figured out ways to help these students become Genin anyway. Rather than giving them the basics to an acceptable level, they examine how chakra works and focus on mastering a certain way of using it.

Generally speaking, this scroll is a tutorial on how to become Rock Lee.

According to the specialization scroll's introduction, chakra is a combination of mind energy and body energy, which can be concentrated into Yin and Yang respectively. The energy I use to improve physical abilities is the body, Yang, which doesn't need molding at all, if you have enough skill in Chakra Composure. Chakra Composure being 'awareness of your body', or...

I squint at the scroll, trying to make sense of the sentence. Just because I understand Japanese doesn't mean I have a 100% comprehension rate, and ninkana uses some really obscure indicators that don't exist in spoken Japanese.

So...Chakra Composure is when I used my chakra to jump around in the grocery store. Going to go with that until I'm contradicted.

Mind energy, Yin, is the 'controller'. The energy of Form. Genjutsu is the most well-known usage of Yin-prominent formations. The scroll goes into a long spiel on it by assuming I know everything there is to know about jutsu, so I completely skip the entire section. I'll go back to it in half a year, when I actually know what the hell I'm reading.

I unfurl the scroll farther until I find where it goes back to chakra composure, since it's the only ability I seem to have.

Chakra Composure works in tandem with Chakra Control in a two-part process. Using my jumping comparison, you use chakra Composure to put your energy into your legs, and Chakra Control to expel molded chakra into a force that will increase jumping strength. The act of putting my chakra into my leg to jump over that crowd was an example of Chakra Composure. The act of slamming into the ceiling like a dumbass was an example of me having terrible Chakra Control.

Okay, so in order to master jutsu quickly, I need to get better at this Chakra Control situation. The scroll says it's linked to Yin energy, so that means I can't rely on sloshing my energy around like a drunkard's cup. That's using my body. Using my mind energy must be like...

I stand up and stretch my legs in preparation for my first proper experiment with chakra. Here goes nothing.

Putting my chakra in my legs, at this point, is pretty easy. I can feel the buzz descend in my legs, compare it to the strength in other parts of my body, and deem it adequate. Then I take a few experimental hops, testing the gravity. I have no idea how to expel chakra, but if I just start small...

I awkwardly attempt to force only a little of it out, and end up flying into the tree and bashing my head in on the trunk before tumbling down onto the ground. _Fuuuuuuuuuuck_.

Therein lies the problem; all of my scrolls are for people who have spent at least a year learning how their chakra works and had years to get used to the feeling, and I am a month old and barely know what it is. _'Don't know how'_ doesn't mean _'can't'_, but it also means_ 'trying is dangerous as hell'_.

I get back into jumping position again anyway.

I continue trying and spectacularly failing at jumping higher than ten feet for the next hour, my desperate endeavours always ending in bruises. If I'm training anything, it would be my ability to recover from a rough tumble, here. No matter how much I try, I always release too much, and go flying into whatever's nearest. It's a depressing self-abuse situation. I don't even know how I'm managing to hit the trees every time.

After a particularly perilous recovery, I manage to land cleanly in the branches of the tree I had been colliding with. Well, to be perfectly accurate, I manage to land without any notable impact (not counting slipping and bruising my butt on the branch I'm clinging to), which is very likely the extent of my ability.

_For today_.

Well, like this, I know I'm not going to be casting any jutsu any time soon; techniques like that require way more control. Looks like I'm going to be relying on that damn coin system pretty heavily after all. Or at least until I can do the ninja-hop without risking chakra exhaustion and a broken arm.

While I'm still in the tree and out of sight, I take my Sub-Model coin off my wrist and fish for the HBC book in one of Koroto's pockets. I could technically Call for it, but I'd rather keep the book limited to Koroto, a face which is only known by all of two people. Having it on Natsume feels..._dangerous_, somehow.

"Call: Coinbook," I state clearly. My case of coins appears. I open it, and sigh with relief when I see three new blank coins inside. There's also the ghost-image of my Sub-Modeling coin. I stick it back in and take out a blank coin.

Technically, there's only two coins that can count as a tactical ability; Sub-Modeling and Ghost. And since I already have a second face...

"Stamp: Ghost."

The coin stamps with the impression of the eye. Interestingly, it also spouts a piece of paper, which binds itself to the first page of the catalogue. I flip back to see what that's all about.

**Using Ghost**

_The ghost ability is a complicated one, and thus also wielded using our ever-useful call system! _

_Please apply your coin to your body before using these calls._

_**"Coin On: Ghost"**__ will instate the effect of Ghost._

_**"Ghost: Offset"**__ will remove the effect of Ghost._

_**"Ghost: Spike"**__ Will increase the effect of Ghost._

_**"Ghost: Drop"**__ Will decrease the effect of Ghost._

_You can also chose targets who can still detect you after instating Ghost. To mark a target, simply swipe the coin and apply the mark to the target's skin._

I raise my eyebrows. So, this ability has a control guide. That's...

A huge pain in the ass.

Well, I stamped it already, best start early on remembering these arbitrary gimmicks. The more I use it, the better I'll get at it, my theory is.

I place the coin square on my forehead where I'll remember it, and nervously call out "Coin On: Ghost".

I feel the effects immediately. Suddenly I'm weightless, and sort of...floating through the air. I can still grasp the tree and step on its branches, but gravity doesn't feel up for actually holding me down. I kick off the branch experimentally, and get sent _flying_, because_ no gravity_ means _no friction_, thanks for the timely update on the subject, _brain_.

I spin around in the air, hoping to balance out my path, but I'm way too high at this point. I force my chakra down to my feet in a desperate attempt to do _something_, and-

Stop dead.

It feels the same as the clingy static chakra that Hayashi used to stick me onto him while we were tree-hopping. I can feel my chakra connecting to the energy in the tree and stick me in place._ Wild_.

"Ghost: Spike," I say, just to see what will happen. As it turns out, nothing. I'm still fifty feet in the air, using chakra to bind myself to the tree. Tentatively, I increase the tension. Sure enough, I slowly descend back down to Earth, back to my perch...

And phase right through the tree.

"_God **dammit**_," I cuss in English.

After a few more attempts and creative chakra movements, I manage to place myself directly over the tree branch.

"Ghost: Drop, Ghost: Drop." I land on the branch again, no longer floating_. _Thought as much.

"Ghost: Drop," I say again, and then feel the effect peel back, leaving me completely unaffected again.

So, three modes; walk around invisible, float around invisible, and float around invisible and phase through objects. It's definitely designed for hiding and sneaking, maybe for thievery. I am starting to get why the HDC assumed I was capable of taking full control over this dimension. This move is _screaming_ 'abuse me like a shadow clone'.

...Which I definitely will not do. For all I know, Ghost is the only way the HDC can snatch me up and bring me down into meta-dimensional eldritch _hell_. These guys wanna play vague? Fine. I'll avoid playing as much as possible. (...After I practice a bit with it, of course.)

Two coins left to work with. I'll have to save up for a nice pocket dimension, maybe something with trees. Can't be certain. I know it should be about as big as a house, to accommodate any changes in plans, or if I just want to store some things. Big plans need storing.

"Ghost: Spike," I state, and the coin returns to the walking state. I look around at the leaves waving softly in the wind, how tangible they look, like I could reach up and pluck one from the tree, and then down at my hands. I can see them, but at the same time, I can see past them; sort of like crossing and uncrossing my eyes.

Now that I've got an ability that requires frequent commands, I realize another big problem; I can't say these out loud every time I use them. I'll give it away, make it easier for them to read me. I need a way to quietly use it as an ability, without them understanding it entirely.

I look at the catalogue.

Spoken, sign language, and written forms.

It'd be pretty simple to use them as seals. I could just write the command in wrap-script, then write the punctuation when I need to use them. I don't know how to use sign language, so that's probably out...unless those rules aren't limited to existing languages.

"Ghost: Drop."

I hop down from my perch and fish an ink brush from my collection. I take an ink well from my pocket and open up a blank scroll. Carefully, I draw a series of hand signs, experimenting with my own hand as I do so.

_**Coin  
><strong>Middle and ring fingers down, forming a circle with the thumb, with index and pinky fingers up, forming a basterdized combination of the devil horn hand gesture and the 'OK' gesture, basically summing up all my feelings on the coin system._

_**Ghost  
><strong>Closed fist, pinky and thumb touching, just because it's an easy sign to make._

_**Spike  
><strong>Thumbs-up, but with the fingers slightly curled rather than held into a fist._

_**Drop  
><strong>Same, thumbs-down._

_**Offset/remove/dispel/whatever  
><strong>All fingers except ring finger held up. Again, easy sign to make. _

_**Call  
><strong>L-shape made with all my fingers lined up._

All of them are one-handed, basically out of assumption that I am going to be holding things pretty damn often in the future, and holding things in a fight means I need to get the hell out of that fight. The next line, though, has the more accessible two-handed signs.

_**Coinbook  
><strong> Form circle with fingertips, part circle and flatten fingers like an opening book. _

_**Coin Catalogue  
><strong> Form circle with fingertips, turn right hand forward._

And now, to experiment. I place my ink brush down carefully and practice each sign individually until I remember what they mean, for sure, and then do it in an intentional sequence.

[_CALL / COINBOOK_]

My coinbook, which had been floating on the tree branch, flies to my position. I jump back at its sudden arrival, but laugh when I realize what I just did.

_Hand seals for the coin system_.

I use the same gestures to dispel the coinbook and roll up my scroll. I'm solving all my problems left and right. Why had I ever been anxious about this? Even if I get myself in trouble, I can just evacuate and regroup. The sudden drop of risk for the situation is intoxicating. I'd get a power trip from this, if I didn't remember that I nearly killed myself trying to climb a tree and can't jump without cracking my skull on _more_ trees.

Maybe I should start avoiding trees. Good idea for training.

"Good morning."

I spin around, expecting for someone to address me, but the speaker is looking away from me. Overcoat, and they're addressing a recently arrived Kumoki. I jump behind the tree I had been working under and form the signs for a Ghost Spike. To my glee, the coin responds to the gesture.

Kumoki is holding a bouquet of flowers. Most of them aren't particularly pretty, and a lot of the colours clash. If I come in closer, some of them aren't even flowers. It looks like he had viciously attacked a greenhouse without discrimination. The stems even look roughly torn, some of the longer ones dangling a few inches farther down. Definitely not store-bought.

"This is?" Overcoat takes the bouquet and turns it over. Kumoki fiddles with his thumbs as his gift is examined. "...Breeding plants for the blood-farming tracking insects, burrowing insects, and clustering insects."

_Ewww._

Kumoki nods. "Un."

"I appreciate the gift," they continue, without changing that flaccid tone, "but I can't use these to breed the insects. That's because, they all feed on chakra. Cut flowers, which hold no energy, are useless."

Kumoki goes very, very still.

So do I. _Chakra bugs...isn't that...?_

Kumoki trips over nothing in an effort to get closer and viciously bats the bouquet of flowers out of Overcoat's hands. He seems unsure of what to do next, looking around wildly, but he finally decides on taking off running at full speed. It's the first time I've seen him move at anything other than a shuffling walk, and it's a little impressive how agile he is. It's also the second time he's expressed any form of emotion, and it's because of this bug guy, _again_.

"...As usual. Hard to deal with," Overcoat mumbles, still staring at his hand.

I switch to Natsume and dispel Ghost using my handsigns (which takes a few tries, but it still works), making myself known. "You a friend of his?"

Overcoat practically jumps out of his skin and whips to look at me, and...yeah, thought so. _Aburame Shino, part of Uzumaki Naruto's graduating class. Body is host to insects he can control. _Drawing a blank on pretty much anything else, but I recognize him, at least.

"...No." He adjusts his glasses. "I don't know anything about that person. That's because-"

"He's totally mute," I finish. He freezes, like that wasn't what he intended to say, but still eventually nods as confirmation.

"I only have a passing interest. That's because, I knew someone with a similar condition. It's educational, despite his lack of speech." Shino looks at the flowers strewn all over the ground, and grunts out a slightly more hesitant "he's very unpredictable."

"Hmm..." Not a lot of details. I'd like to know what that 'condition' is, but I doubt this sort of guy would talk freely about it. Instead, I gather the flowers up. "Isn't it because you're misinterpreting the situation?"

"Misinterpreting?" He sounds offended.

"Uh...well, you just said you don't really know him, and you're not friends, but..." I collect what I can and give him the even more disastrous bouquet. "...From my position, it looks like Kumoki was doing something nice for a friend and got self-conscious when he didn't get the reaction he wanted. So, in this situation, you'd be 'friends'."

Shino looks from the bouquet to me, then back again. He takes it, carefully. "...'Kumoki'."

"His name. Magara Kumoki. He actually lives at my orphanage!" I outstretch a friendly hand. "I'm Natsume."

He doesn't shake it. "Shino. What is his behaviour at your orphanage?"

"Uh? Well...Let's see...He's only there for breakfast and dinner. He used to spend all the time at the library, but he hasn't done that while I've been there...he doesn't sleep or eat with us, and when he eats, it looks really robotic. I think he might have motor function problems? He had trouble waving his arm around when we were playing with sparklers, so..." I mime Kumoki's awkward movements. "Could just be his personality, though."

"Hm. I thought that might be the situation." Shino holds the bouquet tightly and gives me a respectful nodding bow. "Thank you for the information."

And then he leaves.

This is _good_. If he's Kumoki's friend, that links him to the orphanage. I don't know where Shino is during the events of the takeover - though if he's prominent enough for me to remember who he is, he's probably going to be part of the exam - so I should be careful about how I manage where he goes. If I can cultivate their relationship, place Kumoki in the orphanage during the attack...Well, at that point, it would be best to somehow get Kumoki some more skills. Even if he's weak in body, he attends the Academy. He should be able to place a few traps, right? So at that point, I'll have to stock up the orphanage on weapons. Both enough to protect it and the immediate neighbourhood. That means saving money.

I pull another blank scroll out from my pile and draw 'Konoha' in thick calligraphy at the centre. Then in smaller, more delicate letters, I write 'Kumoki', with an arrow pointing at Konoha. Above that, I write 'Shino', with an arrow pointing at Kumoki. In the far corner, I list 'weapons stock'.

There. I already have some structure.

Simple.

* * *

><p><em>AN: <em>_Thanks for the reviews, I get super excited whenever I see there's a new one! I'm glad you're enjoying it so far, and I would love to hear more of your opinions in the future!_


	8. Security

_AN: Wow, thanks so much for the reviews! I'm so excited, just this massive boom of views and follows out of nowhere, plus such kind words, aahaaahgh! I don't usually know what to say, so I'm off and on when it comes to answering them, but to answer some stuff: _

_Alex's memories are essentially on autopilot, right now. They have full access to information they receive from osmosis, but they have no memories to stimulate these facts to begin with. For example, they know that Seattle is a familiar-sounding big city, but they don't know where it is, or even what it looks like. They know 'Seattle' the same way they know what a 'store' is.  
><em>

_Also, I had absolutely no idea game!fic was a thing. Is that a thing? Is there any good game!fic I should be reading right now? I just based the coin system on the Greed Island game system in Hunter x Hunter. Man, I missed some great opportunities, here._

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 8: Security<strong>

* * *

><p>The Uchiha Estate is crawling with green-jacket ninja when I arrive.<p>

I had never actually stopped to think of the implications of a segregated Clan of this size, but the result is definitely not unlike a edge-clinging Chinatown. The difference between the surrounding areas of Konoha and the buildings here are sharp, dramatic, and notably undamaged. Unsurprising, considering that it sits on the opposite end of the city, but still...

I fumble a bit with my handsigns until I can manage a Spike. God, if playing with my fingers is this hard with one hand and signs _I invented_, I_ really_ don't want to deal with actual hand seals.

Now in Full Ghost Mode, I fly around using my chakra as an anchor. It's totally inaccurate, and I keep flying through buildings by accident, but eventually I can Spiderman my way around the bigger streets, at least. It's a bit of a struggle to slow down, but eventually I can scan the area with body-flinging ease, while simultaneously listening in on scattered conversations. Eventually I got a good picture of what was going on right now:

ANBU have already taken the bodies to autopsy.

Sasuke is in the hospital. They don't know when he'll recover. He'd been hit by a violent genjutsu of the likes none of them have ever seen before.

The assassination was performed by Uchiha Itachi.

The police force has been crippled; they'll have to use ninja to fill the space until it can be rebuilt.

Of the entire clan, 70% had been civilians.

The funeral service is tomorrow. It's unlikely Sasuke will be able to attend.

Most of the Chuunin had friends in the clan, and talk about what they lost with empty voices.

The rest are saying that the Uchiha probably deserved it.

I swing back to the entrance again, but I'm too out of it to properly reach for an anchor with my chakra, and end up missing the mark by a few feet. I disengage Ghost with a yell before I can fly through the opposing walls, but that means I have a physical form for it to connect with, now. I don't have the instincts or the willpower to prevent any more pain. I've already used that up throwing my self into a tree for a damn hour.

I hit wall with a damp _whump_, and bounce off with enough force to keep me rolling roughly to the middle of the street. I come to an easing stop on my back, and somehow, I can't bring myself to move. My bruises I had given myself from the jumping practice flare up with new aches, and the most recent impact is like a blaze that refuses to dim. I let my heartbeat pulse uselessly into the bruises, feeling the sharp edges of injury. How long do bruises take to heal? A week? Do I even care, anymore?

The crowds pass by as usual, casting furtive looks at the gates and my fallen form. Gossips whisper to each other. Parents hush their questioning children. Crime scene tape is being pulled over the gate. The sun is shining, warm, unhindered by clouds. Everything is as it should be, in Konoha, even when it isn't. Even like this. It's grinding against my nerves like a cheese grater. Why isn't everyone hurting more? Why is everyone being so quiet about this?

It's a _clan._ It's not 'an entire family is dead'. It's not so simple.

This was _genocide._

"He was my best friend," a Chuunin whispers hoarsely. "He still had the gloves I gave him for his birthday on his dresser."

My eyes trail after him, and I make a decision.

Slowly, I get up.

* * *

><p>"Sorry, Uchiha Sasuke isn't take any visitors," the nurse tells me apologetically.<p>

"What wing?"

"That information is not currently available to the public."

There's a distinct feeling of unrest in the pit of my stomach, like there was a spot in my head that kept me from feeling emotionally evolved, and now it's all broken down and I am viciously exposed to all the empathy my tiny little brain is capable of. Suddenly, it's not just a misfortune Sasuke had suffered through. It's wound on Konoha. It's a wound on the hearts of everyone in it. It's the kind of gash that leaves a nasty scar people will think about for years in the future.

It reminds me of my frail connections to this place. It reminds me that every single person in that clan was a person, and that person's worth had been weighed and deemed less than Sasuke's life. Deemed less than an underground order on behalf of someone other than the Hokage. It bothers me that I don't know who that person is. It bothers me that I can't _do_ anything.

There had probably been quite a few children. Maybe even a baby or two. And Sasuke had seen all of it.

I feel like I'm going to vomit again.

The hospital is a dead end. I'll have to wait until he's released before approaching him. That's fine. I need time to think, time to consider what I could possibly do to help him recover. Negative emotions might keep him afloat, but they aren't enough to soothe his heart, make him self-sufficient, make him..._okay_. He needs more stimulus.

Love. Encouragement. Sadness. Happiness. Fun. Petty feelings, shallow feelings, glimpses of emotional complexity piled onto each other to such a degree that the pain and hate is crushed and flattened out.

This is more than just encouraging a relationship. The amount of time I would have to spend with him, the amount of psychological knowledge I'd need...not only do I have to spend more time away from the orphanage, but I have to do a lot of research into how the human mind works, thus killing my training time.

_Sharingan_, I remind myself.

I take a deep breath and duck into an alley.

"Call: Coinbook, Call: Coin Catalogue," I say sharply. An object appears in each hand. I flip through the catalogue rapidly, looking for what I need. There is _no way_ Sasuke isn't under observation, and if I wait until I enroll into the Academy to stick to him, I'll miss my window of opportunity to endear myself to him. He's not too social, if I remember correctly.

So I need something that can get me close to him without attracting attention. But..._safer_. More careful than portals and closed rooms.

On page 10 and page 32, I find them.

**Security Station**

_Creates a small pocket dimension room with cameras based around all entrances. Size limit of 5x5 metres. _

_...Cost: 2 coins._

**Subspace Walkways**

_Creates a secondary gateway to a pocket dimension. Portal is invisible to all but the Coin System user._

_...Cost: 1 coin._

I check back on the rest of the articles, but there's no mention of a permanent portal needing to be made in the first place. That means that placing a dimension must create a portal to begin with. Most likely by leaving the coin there, but that shouldn't a problem.

If a dimension comes with an entrance, and another entrance is something that requires a second coin, then 'all entrances' means that the Subspace Walkway will generate another camera inside Security Station, thus giving me two eyes to work with. If I'm going to spend all my coins in one go, the Security Station is the best long-term tool I have to work with. Not only can I use it to sneak into Sasuke's house illegally, I can also move freely to wherever I've got one of these 'Subspace Walkway' coins!

Can't believe I'm already breaking this universe's rules. True to form, really, I seem to be messing a lot of stuff up lately.

I open my coin case and evaluate my resources. Three coins, rather than two. I had apparently gained another one since stamping Ghost. The only thing I've done since then is figure out Coin System handsigns and investigate the Uchiha estate, and I don't like what either implies.

I take all three coins out anyway.

"Stamp: Security Station," I declare. Two of the coins tremble for a second, then collide with each other with such force that they become one, which is branded with a stamp of a small camera inside a box. I hold it up to the light for inspection. Weighs about as much as two coins. I'm guessing I have to place it against a surface for it to activate.

I hold the other coin up. "Stamp: Subspace Walkways."

The coin is stamped with the image of a flaring oval.

I place both of them back in my Coinbook, and use my hand sign to dispel both the case and the catalogue. There's Stage One. Now for Stage Two.

_Reasoning with a traumatized child._

I wander around looking for a library until I'm finally forced to ask directions from a few people. One of them takes pity on my plight and actually walks me there. It's not nearly as big as I'd like, especially in such a big city, but it'll have to do for now. I thank my guide and enter.

The inside is very industrial, and it's obvious that it was made up from liberal use of whatever was lying around, primarily wood and metal. Very steampunk, especially with the familiar appearance pipes and wires sticking out everywhere. There's an uncomfortable stretch of hallway after the entrance where I have time to ponder if the library is in shambles, but I'm pleasantly surprised when I get to the end and open the doors to a massive, circular space with a ring of artful-looking shelves in the centre, all painted over in a homey and peaceful dark red.

The library seems to focus more on the vertical than the horizontal; the books are packed all the way up to the ceiling, which is two floors up. It places books wherever books can be placed, and the main floor can barely squeeze in a table or two, let alone a section for the receptionists and librarians. This is _definitely_ something I should have expected from a military state, to be honest.

I come up to the reception desk. "Hi. I'm looking for some books on a certain subject?"

"What do you have in mind?" She asks, smiling down at me.

"Basicas of human psychology," I shrug. "Sociology helps too. And something for mental illnesses, if you have anything on it. Specifically the effects of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder and Clinical Depression."

She flinches back at the request. I don't blame her. I'm seven. I should be barely managing an upgrade from picture books right now.

"Oh, uh...yes. Of course. Right this way?" She gets up and smooths her pencil skirt nervously. I watch her impassively as she todders off to one of the staircases leading to the balcony above. I follow her to a pitifully small section at the end of the medical texts area.

"You'd probably have more luck with this sort of thing in a civilian city," she says apologetically. "Most of our doctors default to chakra therapy and Genjutsu to deal with patients with mental illnesses."

"I want a book on that too," I reply, inspecting the spines for titles.

"Er...that would be in the case second to your left."

"Thanks."

I wave the librarian off. She hesitates before hurriedly returning to her post. When I look down to watch her do so, I realize that the bookcases crammed on the main floor form one huge spiral. Stylish.

I turn to my bookcase and start picking out books like _Introduction To Human Psychology_, _Child Psychology (An Overview)_, and _Understanding The War Of Minds_. There's a smaller volume about coping with death, which is literally the only example on the entire shelf. I'm surprised that dealing with death doesn't warrant more individual books. Maybe it's filed in different sections?

To my surprise, most of the books in the case the woman had indicated are hand-written or otherwise not mass-copied, like the ones on Psychology are. Over half of them are in scroll form. I genuinely don't know where to start there, and I'm not sure I even want to, considering my Chakra Control begins and ends with 'so shitty that it is synonymous with throwing myself at hard surfaces like a drunken flying fish'. Isn't Chakra Control important for healing things?

I eventually pick out a book detailing on what _can_ be healed with chakra therapy and the medical usages of Genjutsu. If Sasuke needs that treatment, I should trust the certified experts to give it to him. If they refuse, because of politics or personal grudges ("They deserved it, you know," one of the men fixing the chalk line around a blood splatter spits) or any number of reasons, I'll be sure to raise hell about it.

I can't use him if he's hurt. That's why he defected to begin with, in that old manga series. Using him as he is won't be _enough_.

I take my books to the receptionist, and she applies seals to all of them while I write down my address onto the forms. She puts them all into a storage seal and tells me to ask an adult to release them for me. I almost snap back at her, but then I realize that if I tried to use my own chakra, the scroll (and all the books) would very likely go flying out the window hard enough to break the sound barrier.

"Sure."

* * *

><p>I peek at my Library Issue Scroll while walking home. It's a very short, small scroll, and incredibly basic in design, just a place to put your chakra, a place for the books to come out (or in), and a circuit between them. most of it seems to be special pathways, but there's a ring of what looks to be kana ringed around the inputoutput spaces. If I squint, it looks like kanji, but some of it bears passing resemblance to hiragana.

I remember Hayashi had called ninkana 'a type of wrap-script'. Does that mean sealing scrolls like these use a different type of wrap-script? Just how much is there to know about sealing jutsu? I don't technically need to look into it, what with my Coin System, but the wrap-script design is definitely interesting. Rather than sealing, I kind of want to look into how wrap-script is invented. The 'wrap' in it indicates that it should be able to connect, and it's true that all punctuation is designed to line up with the tops of any given letter, but this calligraphy-esque writing system shouldn't have any punctuation if it's not used to write. But it might also work in the same way the Coin System does...

I muse over the topic the entire way back, and don't realize that anything's amiss until I come through the front door and am met with four green-vested ninja and three Genin, one of which being Yukie.

"Did somebody die?" I ask automatically.

It takes me until everyone in the room gives me a Look that I realize yes, quite a few people died, just last night. Great going, _me_.

"Natsume-kun," Tomoya says from behind a man with sideburns of impressive girth, "Can you go stay with the other children right now?"

I look between the ninja and him. He looks a little panicked. "What's going on?"

"It's-"

"Police are dead," Yukie interrupts callously. "Ninja are covering their cases until they hire enough to recover. They're seriously gonna _gut_ the Genin Corps."

"What are the Genin Corps?" I ask, not quite following.

"Oh...Yukie-kun, take Natsume-kun outside for now, okay?" Tomoya frets. Yukie saunters over and grabs me by the arm. I take one last glance back to see that it isn't just Tomoya; _all_ of the caretakers, including the orphanage manager, are sitting at the main table.

Yukie carts me across the yard, and when Toro asks what's going on, he carts him over too. He picks a spot of bushes underneath the shade of the biggest tree on the property, and sits us down underneath it.

"Okay, so," Yukie starts, dusting his hands. "To answer your question, Genin Corps are permanent trainees. No missions, Chuunin tell them what's what during a crisis, they get more access to 'alternate career' resources, and they get promoted like...basically never. It's awful. Don't become a trainee."

We nod eagerly.

"As for what's going on with those guys..." he nods at the building to indicate the meeting. "It turns out there's a ring of nefarious criminals adopting kids and selling them on the black market."

"_What_?" I hiss.

"Oh yeah, something awful going on in those parts. They're mostly sold off to mines, but they've gained country interest once we got tips that they've started selling them off to other ninja villages. So there's these missions all over the place on getting them back, and then there's missions about seeing if the ninja village market thing is true, and now that the entire police force is dead, we all have to pick up their slack and find out where these human traffickers even _are_. Resources are spread paper-thin trying to keep track of this case. It is a hell of a thing."

"Woah," Toro says, bug eyed. "Is this what ninjas really do all the time?"

"I went to a smuggling bust as a C-class mission. The only fun thing I have experienced so far as a Genin, and I couldn't walk for two weeks. Hell yeah, it is," Yukie snorts.

"So they're talking to the orphanages about it? Why are they sending so many, if resources are being spread so thin? Wouldn't it be more reasonable to keep one per orphanage and increase the general security level?" I ask.

Yukie gives me a sharp look, and I _know_ that question was too smart for my age group, but he tells me anyway. "Wakahisa and Renewed Future have unusually high rates of 'children of notable origin'. Me, for example. My snow is useless, but what my snow _implies_ is nothing to sneeze at."

"Implies...?"

"I'm not going to give you a lesson on Elemental Affinities in the backyard. You barely know what the hell a chakra is. But basically, orphans who make good ninjas tend to show up in these two orphanages, and people are worried about it. I overheard some of the Jounin say that the biggest threats will have to be forcefully promoted to Independents to avoid getting snagged, regardless of age."

Toro and I chew on this information. Basically, Yukie is warning us that some of the kids here are going to have to disappear for a while, in order to keep them safe. I'm surprised he gave us this information so frankly, but that might just be Yukie's personality at work.

"You're gonna catch them, right Yukie?" Toro whispers.

Yukie cocks his head, like it's something to think hard on. Toro is tense beside me, eyes full of a fire I've never seen from him before.

Then Yukie breaks out into a huge smile and pats Toro on the head with enough force to reasonably describe it as a slap. "Of course, dummy. I'm a Wakahisa remember? And what do Wakahisa do?"

Toro sniffles and returns the smile. "We stick together!"

"Like glue!"

"In life, an endless forest!" They high-five and hold the grip tight.

I don't involve myself in the show of brotherhood. I'm too busy thinking. The human trafficking is definitely a source of concern; beyond just stealing talent, these kids could be a source of intel for other villages. But that's not what I'm worried about.

What I'm worried about is that my orphanage is being targeted by circumstances I know nothing about. What I'm worried about is that if these people are willing to sell children off to whatever business is willing to buy, even if it's a ninja village, then it's only going to be so long before they're going to resort to kidnapping. What I'm worried about is that I don't know what's being done to them while they're being smuggled, don't know what's being done to them while they're put to work, and if kidnapping starts, _no one_ is going to know, because they'll become just that much harder to trace. The recovery efforts are going to be crippled and there's _nothing I can do to help._

Yukie glances at me, giving me that calculating look that every single ninja I've met so far has given me before. "And you know what else the Wakahisa do?"

I flinch, surprised at being addressed. "W-what?"

"We fight." He grips my shoulder. "Tooth and nail. Because it's _our_ family."

I swallow.

"Then...tooth and nail." I grip the wrist holding my left shoulder and stare him down. "Keep them safe."

If he notices how I use 'them', he doesn't say anything. He just stares back at me and gives me a firm nod.

It's all the security I need.

* * *

><p><em>AN: Obligatory Self-Insert Realm Of Interest! Most SI OCs are into medical jutsu, fuuinjutsu, or ninjutsu, but since Alex has worse Chakra Control than most known infants, none of those are even remotely viable, so WRAP-SCRIPT. At some point. There's a lot happening in Alex's life right now.<br>_

_(Bonus: The Japanese word for 'glue' is 'nori'. The Japanese word for 'forest' is 'mori'. Toro and Yukie were reciting a rhyme.)_


	9. Like A Shinobi (Or Something)

_AN: Updated my profile/DA with the entirety of the Coin Catalogue, if you're interested. Warning: tells you a LOT about the HDC a little earlier than it would come up in the fic, and they, uh..._Well_. _

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 9: Like A Shinobi (Or Something)<strong>

* * *

><p>Hiding my body is becoming a bit of a pain. It was easy enough when it was the wrist and crotch area, but now that I've battered myself so badly, there's also the matter of...well, every inch of me covered by clothes. I was lucky enough to only have the upper half of my arms damaged, but my legs are ruined, and my torso is a terrain map of purple welts. Suddenly, I have to resort to constant bandaging, and sneaking around when it comes to bathing. It's already been two days, and I'm fed up with it.<p>

Otherwise...

"Why are ya always reading stuff?"

I look down from my position at the library table to look disparagingly down at Toro, who is crouched on the floor with a book about what sounds animals make. The page it is currently open on is 'What sound do frogs make? Kero Kero'.

I had gone from 'splitting my break time between studying and playing' to 'studying every waking moment', and other people are evidently starting to notice. Or not? Toro is usually in charge of whipping all the other kids into a playing maelstrom through the power of his charisma, and he has a sixth sense for missing kids. One time a kid I didn't even know went to this orphanage didn't show up in her 'usual spot' and Toro hunted her down for fifteen minutes straight. He's got amazing targeted memory.

"I'm _researching_. Why don't you ask what Kumoki is reading."

"He's never in the library anymore."

True. He's at school right now, but he's been presumably stalking the park for weeks now. I wonder what he's going to do now that Konoha's guard over the orphanage is up.

I sigh and lean back in my chair. "Can't you go bug somebody else?"

"Yeah, but I wanna bug you." He bounces onto my chair, shoving my roughly to the side so we're both half-seated. "You never play with us anymore."

"It's been _two days_."

"You never play with us anymoooooore," he repeats with a whine.

"This is important work, okay? I'll play with you when I got most of these basics down." I look down pointedly at my book, which is currently teaching me the ninja equivalent of Pavlov's Experiment. I wonder if I can condition Toro to leave me alone.

"Is that kanji?" Toro peeks over my shoulder to look. "I can't read kanji that looks like that yet."

"Please pay more attention in class," I sigh.

"Why can you read kanji?"

"I don't know, I just can."

I expect him to keep nagging me, but to my surprise, he goes quiet for a while. It's almost as distracting as his nagging, to be honest. Toro never goes this quiet. He must be thinking pretty hard about something. I'm building up the nerves to ask what, but he finally blurts out "You're really cool, Natsume."

I blink. "How so?"

"You're really smart. You learned that weird ninja writing in like a month and you're always the best at playing Ninja and you can read kanji and..." Toro shrugs mildly. "You always seem like you're doing something really, really important. You're different, but in a cool way."

I stare at him. That...is probably a pretty accurate description of an adult in a child's body, to be honest, but still, _ouch_. Was my cover always this poor? Had this always bothered Toro? Or the other kids in the orphanage? If I had known, I might have cooled it off, played dumb, but...

"Is it bothering you?" I ask.

Toro shrugs again. "I don't know. I thought you were just cool, but then when Yuki-nii talked to us you seemed really serious, an' it was kind of scary. Like you knew stuff, and you were going to do stuff about it. I feel like a little kid."

"You _are_ a little kid." I give him a little push. He barely reacts.

Toro's eyes are watery now, and he's looking frustrated, like he hadn't been able to fully communicate what he wanted to say. I'm at a loss, here. Seven-year-old brains are very simple, and that means I have trouble measuring complex subjects, like emotionally soothing another seven-year-old with feelings of...what, inadequacy? It's making me a little frustrated, even _angry_ with myself.

"You're still wearing my sash," Toro finally says.

"Oh, sorry." I thumb the edges idly. "I just like putting it on...Did you want it back?"

He shakes his head and grips the fabric of his trousers tightly. It feels like he's working himself up to say something with a lot of gravity, for him.

"...I'm bad at studying," he says. "I'm always getting bad grades, an' there are kids already going to the Academy and getting okay grades, an' I'm not."

I stare again. Ahh.

"You want to be a real shinobi?"

"Of course I do! I'm always the hero ninja! I want to protect Konoha an' everything, ya know? But you know, you know, it's really hard, because I don't know how to train right an' the other kids my age aren't trainin' either, so, so," Toro is getting more and more panicked as he talks, until his eyes finally wells up with tears and he buries his face in his hands. "You _shouldn't_ take the sash off, because you're definitely a good ninja, and I'm not, and I'm not even gonna be! You're just better, all the time!"

"I'm not- Toro!" I help him mop his tears with my sleeve and hold his chin with my hand, pushing it up so we can meet eyes. "I'm only seven! I can't do taijutsu or ninjutsu or genjutsu or _anything_ either, you know. I need as much training as you do."

"You're gonna go to the Academy, right?" He sniffles. "When they train you I bet you'll be a genius."

"I'm not a genius just because I read big books. Or...no..." I pause and look at the book on psychology I'm reading. "Well, technically, yes, I am, but a genius of book-reading. All I do is read books. That's not enough to make a ninja."

He sniffles and wipes his own eyes for a bit, and doesn't look at me until they're dry. His bottom lip is still wibbling, though.

I sigh. This is harder than I thought.

Slowly, I pull Toro's replacement sash off of his waist, unfurl it to full length, and fold it in half. He watches me, entranced, as I run my fingers over it to smooth the crinkles, take either end, and start winding it around Toro's head. At half length, it only goes around twice, and ties neatly in the back. Task complete, I adjust the ends and lean back to observe my work.

"There. You look like an excellent shinobi," I smile. "What are you worrying about? Even if you totally bomb the written exams, I bet you'll be great at everything else. Don't get all worked up just because you can't _study._"

Toro bursts into tears.

"Oh- no- Toro, stop-" I wave frantically at him, trying to soothe his emotional outburst, but all it does is give him an opening to hug-tackle me straight off the chair and onto the ground. I wince at the spike of pain from my extensive collection of bruises, and I'm starting to wonder if I hadn't bruised a rib at one point, because _ow_.

"Natsumeeeeeeeeeeehhhhhghh!" He whines, getting snot all over my clean shirt. I know he's seven and crying pretty hard, but still, gross. "I'm gonna be the best ninja ever!"

"I believe you," I sigh.

"I'm going to go to the academy with you and train with you and be the strongest ninja ever! I promise! I'll even study!"

"Don't hurt yourself," I grunt, patting him lightly on the back. He just bawls some more. I am uncomfortably reminded of my own emotional outburst when Tomoya had promised to keep my face doubling a secret. It was a month ago, but I felt I was just about this clingy and gross about it. I shouldn't think too poorly of him.

"What am I, your mom?" I grumble anyway.

"I don't even have a mom, _stuuuupid_." He wipes his face with his shirt and gives a big, full-faced grin. "Th'ng you."

"Stuuupid," I mimic. "You just got worked up over nothing."

"S'not nothing." Toro frowns deeply at some distant part of the floor. "...My dad was a shinobi, though."

"Your dad?"

Toro shrugs. "Dunno who he was for sure, but I heard he was a jounin an' everything, so I alway thought shinobi were really cool."

"Ah...I guess falling short might bother you, in that case."

"And I'll be eight by the time I can go to the Academy. That's two whole years behind," he mumbles damply.

"Ah...yeah. You're right, that_ is_ pretty harsh." I sit up myself. "We could cheat, though."

"Cheat?"

"Weeeell, as long as you got the basics down and showed off in ninjutsu or taijutsu, you should be able to do make-up classes...maybe even skip ahead a few years..." I tease. His eyes go as wide as saucers.

"Really!?"

"Yeah, really. I don't know why you're only interested in talking about this stuff now. If this bugged you so much, you could've said. Tomoya-san and Michiyo-san are always telling us to talk about our feelings when we're upset, right?"

"Uh..." Toro shifts uncomfortably. "It's because asked Hiriki what the Academy is like 'cause I wanted to go, and he said that I would be a terrible shinobi and I'll probably be in the Academy for years longer than I'm supposed to. An' that I can't play with him because he's practically a whole adult now, an' that you were better and when you go to the Academy you won't have to play with us anymore, and I thought that he was right, but I dunno now."

I freeze.

"_Is that so_."

* * *

><p>A few problems immediately come to me as I begin my nefarious plot:<p>

One, Wakahisa Hiriki is ten years old, three years older than us, and thus much bigger, smarter, and more talented. If I'm too straight-forward about this, he'd kick my ass.

Two, Hiriki is currently at school. The school for ninjas. If I get caught, the teachers will kick my ass.

Three, the whole kidnapping issue means that security has been bulked up. There's no way to leave without being alerted, and if it's obvious we're sneaking out, the guards will kick my ass.

Four, if Tomoya found out I had terrorized Hiriki instead of demanding an apology, he'd verbally kick my ass.

And yet, _I prevail_.

"A ninja needs to know how to be sneaky," I tell Toro as I pull the curtain cord from the window hangings. He nods eagerly, absorbing the lesson to the best of his ability. "The best way to train your sneakiness is to do something you know is hard. Right now, we're going to sneak around the orphanage guards."

"But they're really good ninjas," he whispers.

I smirk. "_Too_ good. So good that they don't think civilian kids are worth looking at. _That is our advantage_."

I open the window and leap through it. After a moment's hesitation, Toro follows me with more of a scramble than anything. The idea of a mission is definitely cheering him up, and his face is already less moist with tears and other unpleasant liquids. He tags along cheerfully on our way to the biggest tree, the same one Yukie had given us a talk underneath. I'm already wincing before I grind my feet into the ground.

"What now?" Toro asks loudly.

"Sshhh!" I hiss. "This is a blind spot. They've positioned Chuunin at the front and back, and Genin at three corners, but there's a rubbish bin on the other side of this wall we can duck behind. If we can scale the wall on the opposite side of the street fast enough, we're as good as gone."

Toro's eyes bug out. "You remembered the_ garbage_?"

"I'd like to myself as unusually observant. Okay, back up, I'm going in."

I wind the cord around my hand, take a deep breath, and start up my chakra flow. I can _sort of_ see what was going wrong, but I don't think I can do anything to fix it. I literally have no other choice but to kick my _own_ ass, here. With a deep breath and a steeling of my heart, I release the chakra around my legs and fire away.

I fly up like a rocket, and would have missed the tree entirely had I not been jumping straight up. As it stands, I end up crashing through a layer of thin branches before snagging a more stable branch, thankfully without hitting anything. Toro makes a quiet 'oooohhhhhh' noise that sounds like it should be accompanied by several exclamation marks.

I crawl up to the base of the tree, then back out to a higher branch that reaches close enough to the wall to suit my tastes. I dangle from it, swing my body back and forth, and let go once I built up enough momentum. It is, once again, a close call, but I land on the wall by the feet, which is actually a lot better than I expected.

"Wow," Toro hisses. "You already know how to use body energy?"

"Uh...that's not the phrasing I'd use, but yeah," I whisper back. Below me is the street, and a few feet past that is the rubbish bin I need to get to. I crawl along the wall until I reach it. I crouch down even further and peek along the wall. A figure in white, most likely Yukie, is leaning against it, not looking this way. Perfect.

I dangle the cord down so Toro can grab it and spread my legs as far as I can to stabilize myself. I still wobble when he begins to climb, but thankfully, Toro is a very, _very_ tiny kid, and his weight isn't enough to throw my balance. I successfully manage to yank him all the way up onto the wall, and then drop him down behind the bin, out of Yukie's line of sight.

I stare at the wall across from me. Unlike the little ledge I'm currently perched on, this one has a fully curved traditional Japanese styled roof. It would be fancy if the paint wasn't chipping so badly. I have no idea if a rich family actually lives there, or if it's old property, or if it's re-purposed, like the Wakahisa estate is. I find myself genuinely curious about it.

Well, that's for later. Right now, I have to get to the other side of this street. I take a deep breath, try to keep my legs stable and steady, and start moving my chakra down into my legs.

Suppose I'm doing it wrong. Suppose rather than releasing awkwardly on the feet, I could diffuse through my legs? If one leg had less power, then using my whole legs might lessen the wild flying I tend to do whenever I use chakra to jump.

I adjust my posture again and cycle my chakra a little higher, to my mid-thigh. Then, carefully, I lean down, ready a spring, and release.

I completely annihilate the wall.

It explodes in a cloud of dust, and I'm sent flying a good fifty feet in the air, so high that I have time to think-scream 'DO NOT PUT THE SAME AMOUNT OF ENERGY REQUIRED TO SPRING FROM YOUR FEET TO YOUR_ ENTIRE LEG_, YOU_ DUMBASS_' before I land with a rough and awful-sounding _whack_ onto the roof of the other side of the street. It doesn't hurt as much as I thought it might, which means that despite releasing enough energy to destroy the wall, the velocity it gave me was not really all that impressive.

On the other hand, bruises, still all over my body. I wheeze in pain and barely manage to dangle the cord down.

Toro is scrambling and making horrified noises under the cover of the billowing cloud of stone dust that had swept the street in my wake, and he climbs up at record speeds. We roll down into the yard opposite, both on our feet, and I take a few seconds to wheeze with pain some more before kicking off into a fierce run. The Chuunin and Yukie are yelling behind us, and I hope they'll be distracted enough with my wreckage to hold off on the hunt for at least 30 seconds.

"How did you _do_ that?" Toro laugh-yells.

"Too much energy released at once. I_ told_ you I needed just as much training," I pant. We skid down a corner, and my eyes catch on a laundry line hanging a few metres above us, linked between two windows. I don't even have to think; my chakra is in my legs and out my body before the idea even fully forms.

I leap up. It's my usual foot-jump, so I go up_ fast_, and with little fanfare. I shoot past the laundry line at first, then on my way down, snag onto it. It bounces and makes an unpleasant straining sound, but holds. I fish a pair of children's yukata off the lines, as well as some towels, and drop down.

At the last second I decide to cycle my chakra in my legs, and to my pleasant surprise, it absorbs the impact of the landing. God, I wish I had figured out how that works earlier. That would have saved me _so much pain_.

"Here," I rush, wrapping the yukata around Toro, ripping off his play-headband, and tying it around his waist. I do the same. Next, I tie a towel around Toro's head like a bandana, and use mine as a full headwrap. Then I claw my hair down so it covers my forehead. I shove Toro into movement and try to take on a casual, meandering pace.

As expected, a Chuunin flies overhead. I glance up at her, and our eyes meet for a split second, enough to be recognized...

...And she passes us by.

"That's another thing a shinobi does," I whisper to Toro. "Like espionage, and stuff."

"I_ told_ you you're a genius," he mumbles.

"It's common sense. Think...beyond the beyond, or something," I paraphrase. I'm sure there was some sort of ninja idiom about thinking outside the box, but it isn't coming to me at the moment.

"Beyond the beyond," Toro recites with wonder. Okay, this kid will eat up anything I dish out to begin with, so fine enough.

Toro guides me to the Academy, and we get there completely un-accosted. From the looks of it, they're in the middle of physical education, running laps around the area. There's a steady line of people going in and out of the Hokage Office, some of them watching the students hard at work. Directly above the Academy and Hokage Office is the carvings on the fault overlooking the city. I make a face; I really should have figured that this is where the Academy should be. Right next to the two most prominent landmarks in the entire village. Good job, me.

Toro continues to lead me around the track until we can see the incoming trainees. Sure enough, Hiriki is among them, huffing away. I turn to wink at Toro, and he gives me a thumbs-up. Operation 'terrorize unworthy Wakahisa' is go.

Toro quickly gets to his position by the Academy walls, and I duck down and loosen my towel headwrap so it's covering more of my features. I lock onto Hiriki, aim, start up my chakra flow, and...

I'm across the track within seconds. I already feel the beginning of vertigo, signaling that detonating that wall had some ill effects on my chakra reserves. Mainly, bleeding them dry. I doubt I'll be able to chakra-jump more than twice after this.

I drag my legs underneath me as I lose momentum, and I descend upon Hiriki like an angry god, dust trailing and yukata flapping dramatically. Before he has time to react, my foot connects with his body, and he's sent flying into the dirt. The act of hitting him sends me up a little higher, which means I can safely sail over him. I want to give Hiriki an over-dramatic smackdown, not pound him into the earth.

I land on my feet despite the slight spin hitting Hiriki gave me, but I end up forgetting I'm still moving and toppling over anyway. I roll for a few feet, clutching desperately to my makeshift towel turban, and end with a spread-eagled flop at the feet of an adult with a scar over his face.

"Hey," I say.

He reaches down to grab me, possibly by the collar, and I know there's no way I can escape through natural means. I bend my elbows, power my chakra into my feet and hands, and release with all my strength. The dirt underneath me explodes into a cloud of dust, knocking Scarface back, and I go flying into the air. I put more energy in my legs, since I'm already running low, so I'm moving in a tidy arc to the roof of the Hokage tower overlooking the Academy.

_Absolutely artful_.

Of course, my slowly increasing talent with chakra jumps doesn't really say much for my top-heavy seven-year-old sense of balance. Naturally, I hit the tower with a full-body roll. I am going to be a human bruise by the end of the week, at this rate. I'm glad I picked up how to absorb shock with chakra, or else I'd be dead right now.

I don't have time to recover, though. This area is crawling with Chuunin. I peek over the edges of the roof to see they're checking to see what happened with the track, so I do the smallest possible jumps to get back down on the opposite side of the building. When I'm sure I'm out of sight between the Hokage tower and the treeline, I take the coin off my wrist and slide it into Koroto's pocket.

With Koroto's shorts, I can at least see that while my clothes don't carry over, my injuries do. There's the soft bloom of my lighter bruises under my knees, and when I lift my shirt, I see the vicious stain of black, purple, and red from the tree-smacks and impact by the Uchiha gate. That one's probably going to be there for at least a month.

I run out from behind the building, and the Chuunin scrambling around ignore me in favour of finding the now-nonexistent Natsume. There's only about four, and Scarface is talking to Hiriki. I dart over to the edge of the track and slip my coin back on. Toro, who was looking wildly around for me, catches sight of me immediately (_incredible_ targeted memory) and runs over.

"How did you_ do_ that?"

"Chakra. I pretty much jumped around a lot. Anyway, let's go before we get arrested." I remove the towel, rub dust into my hair, tie the yukata into a cape, and keep the sash at my waist.

"Do I have to change my disguise too?"

"Nah, they're just looking for me. Look sharp." I pat his back and urge him forward. The Chuunin are scratching their heads, and I hear the trailing voices of 'probably just a prank' and some vindictive voices about the ires of children.

We aren't stopped on the way back home, even though Toro won't stop giggling. He's clutching my hand in order to keep pace, and I have to keep tugging him to make him go faster. I almost think we're home free, until we actually turn the corner to the orphanage.

It's crawling with Chuunin. The chipper receptionist lady who named me is talking to a member of the police force. I don't see any sign of kids in the yard.

Behind me, Toro swallows.

"Don't worry," I whisper. "I'll test their defenses."

I throw the Yukata over my head so he can't see me from behind, and I slip the coin off again. As Koroto, I approach the front gate of the orphanage.

"What's going on?" I ask innocently.

"Oh...Oh dear. It seems there's been a...well...I'm not sure if should even say attack, but it slipped right by them!" The woman titters, looking frantically at the corner, where the wall should be. I follow her gaze, and, a little curious of the damage I had inflicted, I walk over to see the results.

More Chuunin are staring at the wall, where it had been reduced to rubble right down to the ground. It's a very narrow spot, so thin an adult could barely squeeze through it, but still, shit. The rest of the wall is cracked around it, so I'm guessing that the wall suffered a lot of tension even with that compact release. I wonder if I could weaponize that, if my reserves got big enough.

I do the hand signs for Ghost, spike it to full transparency, and drag myself through the walls to the inside of the orphanage. I expected the kids to be collected and counted, but that's probably going to wait until after the Academy kids get home, since they're just milling about. Bringing them in was probably a safety precaution.

Well, like this, it can't be a huge challenge for Toro and I to sneak in. I fling myself out the door, past the gate, past Toro (who is diligently hiding in a cranny), and disengage at the end of the street. Again, I absorb the shock with chakra. It's already my most useful move.

Toro jumps a little when I tap his shoulder, as Natsume. "What? What's going on? Is it because of us? Are we in trouble?"

"They're likely going to count heads when Academy classes are over. We get in there, no one knows there was ever a problem."

"Then how do we get in? There's adults all over the place!"

"Good question." I clamber up the side of the house Toro is hiding in front of and stand carefully on the roof so I can diagnose the situation properly. About eleven Chuunin in total, nine in front and two investigating the hole in the wall. Chances are, they're going to stick to the hole if they can manage it.

Now for a distraction.

I run along the (thankfully clustered) roofs until I'm a healthy distance in the opposite direction of the front gate of the orphanage. I check carefully for witnesses or anyone who can be harmed by a high-impact 'distraction', but the area is decently empty, and the only signs of life are indoors. Awesome.

I hop down to the ground and check the street carefully. Slowly, I pull back my fist. My chakra reserves are basically empty at this point, but I definitely want Toro back in the house, so he can discover the true meaning of ninjas, or whatever. Maybe it's just general altruism and a great adrenalin rush.

I throw my fist down, and the stone tiles crack a little bit, but the effects on the dirt are a little more obvious. Not enough power, though. Definitely more effective on softer materials and unstable structures. Okay, let's amp it up a bit.

Both hands down, palms open, I force my energy _out_, at high speeds, towards the ground. The tile is ripped from the ground from the force, sending little pieces of stone flying this way and that, along with the expected nigh-volcanic eruption of dust. The sound is loud, definitely loud enough to attract some attention.

One of the tiles flies into my face hard enough to draw blood. I can't tell if it's that or the chakra exhaustion that's making the world around me go black.

* * *

><p><em>AN: "pchoooooooooooooooo" ~Alex, probably<br>_

_Wanted to explore a bit more of Alex's personal life, their personality, and how they use the coin system so far. The destructive nature of Alex's chakra jumps is based on how Sasuke crunched the tree when attempting tree-walking, and how Naruto's first full Rasengan attempt left a very scattered effect; when Alex pushes chakra down, it mostly scatters at top level (except in the case of the wall, where rather than scattering, it went tense and gave out), but still dissipates _viciously_.  
><em>

_Anyway, Naruto's over! Final chapter and the bridge chapter for the spinoff, wowee! Was kind of hoping chapter 700 would be a conclusion to the major story instead of "LOOK AT ALL THE CHARACTERS YOU'RE GOING TO BE READING ABOUT IN THIS NEW SERIES" fake-out with the Naruto cast as props, but eh. Eeehh. EEEGGHHHH  
><em>


	10. Trust Issues

**Chapter 10: Trust Issues**

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><p>There's a slight breeze tickling my feet.<p>

I stir a bit, but it brushes against me again, and I'm brought back to conscious thought.

My legs are dangling off the surface I'm currently laying on, hence the breeze. The surface feels rough, like wood. There's a cold object pressing lightly against my knee. I can feel the familiar buzz of a foreign presence next to me.

Slowly, I open my eyes to a brilliant sunset, streaks of pink and red striking against a sea of purple. My gaze trails down, until I see the railings that my legs are dangling out from underneath. I force myself up a little farther, and I'm a little startled to see all of Konoha lying out before me.

Sitting up all the way reveals the Hokage tower. So, I'm on the monument.

"More clouds coming in," says the person next to me. "Going to rain soon, I reckon."

I glance up. Hayashi is casually leaning against the railing, looking down at me.

"Uh...Mmm."

I look down at myself. I'm still wearing Natsume, but I'm missing a shirt, revealing my chest in all its bruised and abused glory. It looks like I had lost a fight with a herd of angry bulls, and based on the extra throbbing pain I feel, some of them are extremely recent. I can only imagine what he thinks.

I untie my sash with one finger and tie it around my head again, out of respect for my current character design. Hayashi raises an eyebrow at me.

"So, I heard you were wreaking havoc upon our poor, defenceless city," he drawls. "Allegedly starting with drop-kicking an unsuspecting orphan at high speeds."

"Allegedly," I mumble.

"I'll have to be honest, it was the funniest shit I've ever seen. But it was _wrong_. Why would you ever drop-kick a boy three years older than you? What could have_ possibly_ possessed you to do that?"

I shrug. "He told my friend that he isn't good enough to be a shinobi. And he's three years older than me, with ninja training. Drop-kicking him is the only thing I _could_ do."

"Very well-reasoned. Still wrong, though."

I scowl at my toes, and with the new perspective, I'm struck with how _big_ Konoha is. I had the impression that it was as large as any major city, but _understanding_ it isn't the same as_ seeing_ it. Somehow, even walking through it, I hadn't truly understood the size. In the event of an attack, it would be hard to raze through it...but it would be equally hard to completely protect it.

I unconsciously start to imagine prime striking points, starting from the stadium, which is just a bit off from being the centre of the entire village. Past that, to the northeast, is pure training grounds, taking up a huge section of uninhabited property. Most of the residential area is pooled around the monument. If there was a strike, I'd need some way of securing this region.

My orphanage is tucked off in a small corner close to the Uchiha compound. It's an estate in the middle of a residential region, and thus takes up an entire ring of streets. An attack could come from any direction. I'd need more than three people to alternate between guarding the building, the children, scouting, and having someone move to assist nearby areas. Using the orphanage as a base would work best.

Shit, this is complicated. I was too narrow-minded just focusing on _people_. I'll need to find a map and start planning defense strategies. If I can get to Sasuke, and somehow use his position in the Uchiha compound to my convenience, I could get a good leg up...Or if I used it as an evacuation point...

"You sure are thinking hard," Hayashi observes.

"How strong is Konoha's defence? What are their main defences in an emergency?" I ask him, still wondering what the best way to eliminate the Sound in the shortest amount of time would be. Yes, that's right, they're from the Land of _Sound_. Could I warn Konoha about them beforehand? It would certainly increase security...

"Chuunin have their own conditional guidelines for emergencies. Jounin secure the regions. Genin follow directives from those of higher rank. Why?"

"It needs to be better. What are the regional priorities?" I lean forward, craning my neck to get a good look at the very edges. "Are there secure evacuation routes?"

"You're a very paranoid little child, aren't you," Hayashi hedges.

"...It's..." I ease back into the conversation, and realize how it must look. I shake myself out of my trance. "It's...You said there was a war, right?"

"About thirteen years ago, yeah."

"Well, you had to have built up a good base. Precautions. Alert levels. I don't know, it's a military city, you know? But..." I gesture weakly at the Uchiha compound. "But you still had a genocide pulled off within your own walls."

Hayashi noticeably stiffens. "...'Genocide' is a pretty grim word."

"Well it's a pretty grim situation," I spit.

Hayashi turns so he's leaning his back against the railing and folds his arms, never breaking eye contact once. His brow is furrowed, as if in thought. "When I was twelve, I saw a lot of genocide. It's a very unpleasant thing, isn't it?"

"_Duh_."

"And it comes with a lot of fear. I suppose it wouldn't hurt to tell you something interesting; ever since the Second Hokage, people have been distrustful of the Uchiha. While I loathe to admit it, 'genocide' is truly more apt than you'd think, even if it was perpetrated by another Uchiha."

I quirk my head suspiciously. "Another Uchiha?"

He freezes and slaps a hand over his mouth. I suppress a giggle. This guy is honestly the worst ninja in history.

"...What do you mean by 'distrustful'?"

"I- I don't know. Their dojutsu is unnaturally powerful, though. Maybe it's just a fear of their strength." He scratches his chin idly.

If I remember correctly - which is pretty hard without any tangible memory - Itachi had massacred his clan on orders. Not the Hokage, the Third generates too many warm impressions for it to be him, so someone else in a position of power. Ugh...I wish I had given this series a reread recently. Everything is a blur, and completely worthless to my situation.

Not to mention Konoha feeling more real than a previous life featuring few Japanese graphic novels.

"...Okay, stop making that grim face. It's creepy. What I'm trying to get at is, if you hear people saying the Uchiha deserved it, or that it was in any way a relief or a good thing, don't believe them," he sighs. "I went a good decade thinking people were getting better, but lo and behold, people are assholes and I am in constant suspicion that a distrust of the Uchiha is exactly why the fatality rate was so immense. Wait. Don't repeat that. I didn't say that. _You_ thought that, if anyone asks."

"Things are really dark lately," I mumble, ignoring his grasping attempts to save face. He got it right on the money, anyway.

"True. Drop-kicking a ten-year-old is quite possibly the only good thing to happen this month."

My face flares up with a blush, and my attempt to twist away sends a shock of pain up my side. Oh yeah. Bruises. It occurs to me that I have yet to discern the reason for being topless on the hokage monument with a Chuunin I am only vaguely familiar with, talking about Konoha's failings. I give Hayashi a suspicious look.

"Why am I up here, anyway?"

"You passed out due to what appears to be chakra exhaustion. I don't know how you managed that; expelling chakra at the base level doesn't take up much energy. You should be able to perform somewhere around twenty to thirty jumps, at your level."

I pause. "Twenty to thirty?"

"It gets higher as your chakra reserves go up. You'd need exceptional skill in managing your chakra flow if you want to-"

"My upper limit is _ninety_."

"-Do that, _wow_." he snorts into his hand. "How did you even figure that out?"

I gesture at my colourful array of bruises. This time he doesn't bother holding back; he doubles over with ugly laughter. I feel the rest of my blood rush to my face, heating it so much that I'm sure that I must look like a human-shaped tomato. I try to control the mortification, but being laughed at _stings_. The feeling is prickling against me, like thorns and nettle.

Hayashi doesn't seem to notice how upset I am. "Okay...Okay, please, please tell me, because I _absolutely_ need to confirm, how exactly did you learn how to jump like that?"

"Well...when you were jumping through the trees, you released your chakra, right? I could feel it. So I wanted to try to jump like that too."

Hayashi looks at me like I've grown a second head. "You...you were trying to copy_ Snapping_? You_ accidentally_ invented Release Pushing?"

"I...what?" Embarrassment gives away to confusion. Was that a real sentence?

"You're not supposed to _literally_ release the chakra you build up when jumping," he explains, a little hysterically. "It's called Snapping. You build up in your centre, and cycle a large amount of your body energy through your legs when you want to jump."

I freeze.

"_What_?"

"You...Oh good _lord._ You honest-to-goodness accidentally developed Release Pushing. That's...that's incredible. You're like one of those damn prodigies. You weren't even sure what chakra _was_ when I met you." He doubles down into another small fit of laughter. There are tears coming out of his eyes now. "Okay, listen...listen...What you're doing is the core of all advanced-level taijutsu. You're supposed to use it to dodge quickly, increase the impact of your attacks, and so on. That's a_ combat_ technique. And you're using it to_ jump around like a damn grasshopper_."

He lets out a small shriek of barely-contained giggles, and it becomes immediately clear what he found so funny. A civilian amnesiac seven-year-old had accidentally pulled off an advanced technique with a violent tenacity, while attempting to achieve a basic move that would take barely any time at all to figure out how to perform successfully.

Whoops.

"How do you even _do that_?" He continues wildly. "Ninety times, with your puny reserves. That means that _not only_ did you accidentally invent Release Pushing, you also _somehow_ developed a Chuunin level of awareness for your body. How? How are you real? How are you just drop-kicking ten-year-olds instead of exhibiting your prowess in the field? It's _unnatural_."

"I don't want to attract attention. And I have to wait five more months until I'm allowed to attend the Academy," I attempt to argue.

"Okay, I originally took you up here to get you out of dealing with Tomoya's parental disappointment, but listen. Listen. I got a great idea. You're going to_ love_ this. I mean, you want to be a ninja, right? That's why you're diabolically plotting on how to improve Konoha's overall security?"

"It's not _diabolical!_"

"Have you ever looked in a mirror when you space out?_ Unbelievable_. Anyway, look, look at this." He pulls a scroll from his pouch and unfurls it in front of me. I scan it quickly, and...

And apparently, in the hours I've been unconscious, Hayashi had reported me as the perpetrator and Konoha had assigned me a punishment befitting of assault of a minor, petty theft, and destruction of property. Mainly, community service. Lots of community service. _150 hours_ of community service, with a threat of severe punishment if I do not comply. Most interestingly, the scroll lists 'F-class missions' as my main tasks.

"What's an F-class?"

"Low-profile missions that civilians can do. Volunteering at a short-staffed shop, picking up trash, helping people move, housesitting, and babysitting children of no particular import, that sort of thing."

I groan. Basically, a bunch of time-eating activities that keeps me from moving freely. Then again, that was probably the idea. "Couldn't I get a better punishment?"

"Nope, and you won't want to when I tell you the _best part_." He rolls the scroll back up again. "First, I made it so I am personally supervising you. Again, avoiding parental disappointment, so on and so forth. _Second_, as I am doing this as a Chuunin, I can push a form for apprenticeship."

"Apprenticeship?" I repeat sceptically.

"Basically, preschool for Academy students. Late-arrival students are common, but you're probably interested in graduating as soon as possible. For that, you need to prove you're capable of taking the courses for older students. Most kids with a basic education can skip a year ahead, but you're probably not going to be satisfied with just that, right?"

I nod firmly. "Yeah."

"Right! So F-class missions are accepted as part of an apprenticeship regimen. It's like a practice run for a real Jounin-sensei team! Er...you see, when you graduate, you get a Jounin as a teacher for a three-man unit. For social stimulus reasons, these units contain two boys and one girl."

"..._Social stimulus_?"

"Boys are most competitive in pairs, and their attempts at escalation will usually prompt a girl to prove herself to be at their level. According to the textbooks, anyway. Sounds a bit flawed, but my team worked great, so I can't complain." He shrugs. "So, I'll teach you the basics of chakra use, some light history lessons, and so on, and you can use those skills I teach you to land a higher grade on your entry exam. Some clan kids can max their grade out at the age of six. It's a broken system, but a system I am completely willing to _ruthlessly abuse_."

I scan his face for any of that edginess I've seen in him before, but he looks genuinely excited, even thrilled at the prospect of advancing my career as a ninja. Which is suspicious. He barely knows me, and suddenly he's going above and beyond on my behalf? Especially since I'm an outsider.

I decide to voice my concerns. "So...why are you doing all this for me?"

"Oh, I wasn't going to, actually. It only just occurred to me. As for why I suggested it, let's see..." He closes his eyes in a blatantly false mask of deep thought. I wait for him to decide he's created an acceptably long pause. "...Well, the apprenticeship program would contribute to my career, for one. I'm more likely to be promoted to Jounin if I show I can manage long-term responsibility. The better you perform, the better it is for me."

I...wasn't actually expecting that. He doesn't seem like the type to climb the career ladder. Or even_ look_ at the career ladder. In fact, he has struck me as the type of person who would have taken the Chuunin exams out of nothing but peer pressure. "You want to be a Jounin?"

"The only paperwork Jounin have to do are official reports," he says grimly.

Oh, yeah, no, it totally makes sense now.

"As for your case...hmmm..." He strokes his chin thoughtfully. "I'd saaaay...it's secret!"

I pout and cross my arms. "Why?"

"I don't know much about you. Giving you information might affect your behaviour. Makes you...it makes you _unpredictable_," he grinds out, and I'm startled into wondering if he had a conversation like this before. Or had to deal with a situation like this before. I can't be the first person to move into Konoha without my papers.

I'm probably just the first one without memories.

The thought of how precarious my situation is sours my mood immediately, and I automatically switch tracks to shake it off. "Jounin teams have three members. Does that mean that we need two other people to start an apprenticeship?"

"Oh, right. I forgot about that." He absently scratches his head. "Well, we can start with that mysterious youth wearing the same outfit as you and happened to run away with you when things got hot..."

Oh _no_. "You _saw_ him?"

"He really gunned it when you set off that explosion near the orphanage. Boy knows how to take the chances he's given," he says slyly.

Well...it's true Toro wants to be a ninja, and it's true I want to help him achieve that dream...but the look Hayashi is giving me is seriously creeping me out. I feel like we're in for a world of pain when it comes to future training. Not a pleasant thought.

"...What about the third member?"

"Well, you two can decide. It doesn't have to be a girl, either, in case you were wondering."

More like_ Toro_ can. Beyond finding missing kids, there is a_ reason_ he is the leader of our age group. I don't know if it's empathy or simple observation, but he's incredibly good with people. I'll leave him to it.

"'Kay. Is that all?"

"Yep! I just wanted to tell you about the F-class assignments to begin with. I suppose the fact we talked about so many other things means you're an interesting person to have a conversation with!" He chirps.

"Uh...Thanks." I can feel my face go red again. Stupid baby body and its stupid baby emotions. I can't wait until I'm old enough to stop reacting like this.

"Hm...quick question before I bring you down, then," Hayashi says.

"Yeah?"

"You haven't seen anyone _suspicious_, have you? Around the orphanage? Not to scare you, but there's-"

"A ring of human traffickers adopting orphans to sell them on the black market as cheap labour?"

He stops dead and stares at me. I stare back and give him a few innocent blinks. I can see the gears turning in his head. I wonder if it's okay to leave him hanging or actually admit that I know that because of irresponsible information handling and family bias. Also, Yukie in general. I haven't spent a whole lot of time with him, but it doesn't take a lot to realize he's not very good at keeping his mouth shut. Not unlike Hayashi, actually.

Finally, his face lights up with recognition. "The...white one. Dumb bloodlimit."

"Yukie."

"Yeah, him. He told you." He's saying it like he's making a confident guess.

"Yep."

"Anyone else know?"

"My towel-headed accomplice."

"Excellent. I was a little worried I couldn't complain about this case to whoever was nearest when taking care of you brats. Make sure to tell your third member too, I whine more than most drunks."

"That doesn't seem like something you should say to a seven-year-old," I point out.

"And you don't really seem like a seven-year-old," he replies.

Ah, back to this, the old 'ninja who has had any sort of conversation with me' look. Not even that, though, is it? Scarface gave me this look when I landed at his feet, no talking required. I don't know if it's suspicion or unrest at this point, because I haven't had anyone declaring actual mistrust yet. I'm not sure why; _I'd_ mistrust me. I learned a writing system in a week and never go to the bathroom.

Then again, I also used the wrong jumping technique to throw myself at a tree for an hour. That's the kind of asshattery you can_ rely on_.

"Thank you for helping me, Hayashi-san," I say in complete earnestness. While he's the nosiest of the people I've met, Hayashi's constant tittering is something_ I_ can rely on.

He gives me a lopsided grin and a wink. "Don't thank me yet. Just because I'm taking care of the 'punishment' doesn't mean you don't have to deal with Tomoya altogether. You better steel yourself."

I grimace and slip my shirt back on. As an adult, I understand I can probably take the heat. As a seven-year-old, I know that no I can't, this is going to be awful and there's no way I'm ending this day without bawling my eyes out and hugging somebody, because I'm a stupid baby in a stupid baby body.

Hayashi covering for me isn't a help as much as a additional thing to worry about. The guy is cryptic. _Super_ cryptic. Cheerful, callous, occasionally childish, and incredibly indulgent, but _so cryptic_. I feel like I could totally figure out what he's inferring most of the time if I wasn't a _stupid tiny baby_. For now I'm forced to play mind games to cover the fact that I'm constantly threatened by how he keeps looking distant and slightly tortured at seemingly random intervals.

Why does a seven-year-old need to play mind games with a dude in his mid-twenties, anyway? That's like...abuse, or something. He doesn't know I'm not really seven. Feeling constantly persecuted could do some psychological damage to a kid!

I mean, Naruto turned out fine, but I'm pretty sure Naruto is made out of concentrated sunshine and earnest dreams, so he doesn't count.

"You look pretty mad," he snickers.

"I'm lamenting my situation," I growl.

Hayashi gives me a noogie and my shirt back. I slide it on and follow him wordlessly down off the monument and into the streets. The sun has set completely now, leaving the streets in a cool shadow, with only the bright blue sky to signal the fact it isn't _quite_ night-time yet. I don't usually go outside during dusk, and the effect kind of...thrilling. Dark enough to change the atmosphere, but not dark enough for it to be spooky.

Hayashi takes me through a few back alleys I've never been through. Actually...has Hayashi ever actually taken me through a main street before? When we first came to Konoha, he made a beeline for the backstreets, and I'm sure he went the long way around when he took me to the Bureau. Is that important? That feels important. I don't know why, but I try to remember it anyway.

"Here we are," he says. I glance up, and realize we have arrived at the back end of the orphanage. When I crane my neck, I can see the spot where I destroyed the tiling the next street over. It's covered in a thin layer of dust, but it's already been fixed up. That's good. I would feel bad if I had inflicted any permanent damage on the area.

He walks me all the way to the front gate. I wince when I see Tomoya standing at the orphanage door, arms folded, looking grim and absolutely ready to put the fear of god in me. I look up hopefully at Hayashi.

"Time to face your fears," he tells me.

And then he leaves.

_Ass_.

I fidget at the gate, sparing a glance at Hayashi's steadily receding back before swallowing and standing tall to meet Tomoya's eyes. It's okay. I'm technically an adult. I just have to be firm. Trust in myself. Accept that drop-kicking children is not proper Wakahisa behaviour.

But Tomoya's eyes aren't looking at me. They're looking at Hayashi. They're looking very, very fearfully at Hayashi. I don't understand why; Hayashi seems, for all intents and purposes, like an incredibly normal jerk. There's not a lot to be scared about. At worst, it makes him very punchable.

And then it clicks.

I'm wearing Natsume. I'm wearing my _second_ face.

Hayashi had been talking to me normally. Like he was talking with Koroto. Like there wasn't a difference.

He _knows_.

* * *

><p><em>AN: Surprise! <em>

_(FANON FACTS I MADE UP TO MAKE THE CANON MAKE SENSE: Since Alex's jumping analogy doesn't actually work anymore, here's a factual one; Alex is very, _very_ good at telling the difference between their mental/physical energy and Chakra. Converting and moving the energy is simple to them, but using it requires a different sense that Alex doesn't possess, because they have had this coil system for only four weeks. Alex **can** mold chakra, but it would have a very weird effect...) _


	11. Apprenticeship Program

_AN: Thanks so much for the reviews! As a reward, he's another long chapter (the longest since chapter 3)! This one's got a loooot of content, and two new characters! Still OCs, of course.  
><em>

_I updated my DA/Profile with a bunch of new art, too! Hayashi's team, some art of Yaruhiko and Toro, and the design of the new character introduced in this chapter! EDIT: Now with dotera!Yukie.  
><em>

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><p><strong>Chapter 11: Apprenticeship Program<strong>

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><p>If there's one good thing to get out of this situation, it's that Tomoya sends me to bed without dinner or a tongue-lashing. He's too anxious to manage even a word of greeting, actually. He just kind of...drifts away.<p>

I'm led to wonder what _exactly_ Hayashi knows about Tomoya, and why Tomoya would automatically perceive him as a threat. Something clearly went down, possibly during the war, and possibly the _real_ reason Tomoya quit being a Genin. Possibly the reason the two of them keep waving information they're not going to give me in front of my face like a doggie treat.

Out of all the caretakers, Tomoya is the most active and beloved. He's like a Super Dad. It's hard to imagine him doing anything that would necessitate paranoia around those who know about it. (The fact that I could probably break him in half if I kicked him hard enough non-withstanding.) I know I'm only seven, but I just want people to _tell me things_. Not knowing things hasn't bothered me so far, but 'not knowing' is not the same as 'clearly being denied information'.

On that count, I want to punch Hayashi and the HDC in equal measure right now. I_ hate_ being out of the loop. That's a character trait I'm sure I have, now, because it's clawing at my head, demanding to be noticed. I want to _know_.

Instead, I go find Toro.

His bedroll is, as usual, on the edges of the giant block of sleeping children, right next to Yaruhiko's. Yaruhiko is, as usual, using a small pocket light to read a book, and Toro is, as usual, using that light to read a comic book. It's comforting how predictable he can be.

"Hey," I whisper, sliding in under his covers.

"Natsume? I thought you were dead!" He declares in whispered horror.

I roll my eyes. "I'm not going to die from a few explosions."

"You exploded_ everything_ today. Most people would die from that."

"Well, guess I'm just a child of many talents. Anyway, listen." I climb up farther so I'm right beside his head, leaning on his pillow. "I just got us the greatest ninja career headstart."

"How did you get us a ninja _anything_ while you were dead?"

"I wasn't dead. _Anyway_, I ended up getting punished by this Chuunin, and he was like, hey, let's turn that punishment into an apprenticeship! He just has to push some papers and then he can have his own team of ninja kids! It's free training that helps kids who want to be ninjas skip a few grades when applying to the Academy!"

Toro's eyes turn into round, glittering saucers. "Like _us_."

"Yeah, like us! But it's copying Jounin unit styles, so we need a rounded three in order to properly apply."

"Jounin whatsits?" Toro asks, eyes still alight despite his confusion.

"Three people and we get free training. Pick a third guy," I simplify.

Toro points at Yaruhiko. Huh.

Yaruhiko is not a very _defined_ person. Beyond the blandness of his appearance (untidy plum hair that has grown into a bob purely out of a lack of willingness to cut it, and eyes that always seem to be lidded with disinterest), I have a hard time figuring if he even has a personality to begin with - besides a consistent lack of desire to be doing whatever Toro is dragging him into, of course. The only two things he ever does is read books around the backyard and play with Toro. I normally see him doing the latter, which leads me to assume he's more active, but he gets really into reading sometimes, and some of the books are kind of thick. It's almost impossible to get a read on him, considering he never says much beyond confirmations and indications to Toro to take over the conversation whenever it comes around to him.

Toro has never expressed insecurity due to Yaruhiko's reading habits, unlike my own study sessions, which is easily to dismiss, because Yaruhiko is totally whipped and will buckle to Toro's begging to play in _seconds_. I've_ seen_ it. Toro has no reason to assume Yaruhiko's reading habits are anything other than 'something to do when not spending time with Toro'. Yaruhiko never seems particularly pleased to be dragged about, but he's perfectly happy once he gets into it, unless it's chores.

Again, the change in moods makes him very nebulous and hard to pin down.

It almost seems..._intentional_.

I glare at Yaruhiko suspiciously. Yaruhiko is currently too bewildered by the silent declaration to notice.

"Why_ me_?" He hisses at Toro, switching his light off.

"'Cause you're my friend and you're not in the Academy yet," Toro says, like it's the most obvious thing in the world.

"I'm not in the Academy because I _don't want to be a Genin_."

"Then don't be," Toro says simply. "You're just going to be the third guy for a ninja training team, because Natsume says we need a third guy."

Yaruhiko glares at him so hard it looks like his eyeballs are going to pop. Then he switches his pocket light back on and goes back to his book. Toro continues to needle him, to no avail; Yaruhiko has completely shut down the conversation. Well, that was a bust. If I had actually put a little more effort into reading Yaruhiko, I might have been able to make a good argument, but I'm at a loss right now. I simply don't know enough about his personal motivations to negotiate with him.

Maybe I need to spend more time with the people I want to protect.

I slide out of Toro's bedroll and crawl over to the cubby where my own roll is still stored. I yank it out and unfurl it in my own usual spot, in the far corner of the room, away from where the kids are clustered on the floor. I have long since decided against getting anywhere near that mess of lip-smacking and sleep-kicking.

I've already thought myself in circles, and my body is aching and desperate for a more substantial rest. It doesn't take long for me to fall into a dead sleep, coloured by half-thoughts I can never seem to reach.

* * *

><p>For the first time in a month and a half, Yaruhiko has a solid presence.<p>

A disgruntled one.

A _very_ disgruntled one.

So disgruntled that he doesn't sit across from Toro, but rather climbs up a bookcase and settles up into the rafters, where he pouts with a book about pirates. Toro is screaming at him to come down all morning. They both end up missing breakfast.

Meanwhile, Tomoya has calmed down some, and he makes a few pointed comments about my_ work_, and how he's so glad I'm _working_ so soon, and I better do my best at _work_, and basically any other phrases that make it exceedingly clear that I'm being punished and if he catches me goofing off on the job he's going to string me up by my ankles and leave me at the mercy to the elements, or something.

Better than anxious Tomoya, but still a bit of a downer.

Hayashi doesn't come to pick me up, so I'm assuming that there's a bit of an incident with the paperwork. Leading theories are 'avoiding' and 'withholding out of spite', mainly because he was annoying yesterday and I like the idea of him being intentionally unlikable.

Hiriki is plain missing, which I also like, because it means I don't have to force myself through an awkward apology just yet. Or ever. Hopefully ever.

After breakfast, I spend some time in the library reading up some more on psychology, occasionally taking notes in ninkana, with the relaxing background ambiance of Toro attempting to bribe Yaruhiko down with some candy he got from an old lady he met downtown. Yaruhiko throws a book at him. Toro seems confused, like he has never had someone shut down an argument because they _didn't agree with him_.

I flip to a section on mental disorders and do my best to ignore Toro kicking the wall in frustration.

Eventually, a few kids tug Toro away to lead another game of play-Ninja, leaving the library in its usual peace and quiet. I'm free to examine Inattentive and Impulsive genres of ADHD in peace. Which I manage to do all of five minutes, before the fact I know so little about Yaruhiko starts bothering me again. I should know more about him. I always hang out with Toro, why don't I know his best friend? That's weird.

"Why won't you listen to him?"

He peers down from his comfortable seat in the rafters to glare at me. "Why did you tell him about the apprentice program?"

"I needed a second guy and a third guy," I reply coolly.

He snorts and snaps back to his seat. Well, it's obvious that he is, in fact, seven years old. Let's expand.

"You're friends with Toro, right? Why don't you just take the apprenticeship program and then_ not_ apply to the Academy, like he said?" I suggest. "Jounin units are in a two-boys-one-girl formation. If you drop out, me and Toro could be on the same team, even."

"I'm not interested in being one of Konoha's _dogs_," He says.

Huh.

Huh?

"What do you mean? Don't you want to protect your village?"

"It's _personal_! Go away!"

I scowl up at him. Well if he's going to be a brat, then he deserves what's coming to him.

I hop out of my chair and march up to the centre of the room, lining up with the rafters. Then I focus my energy towards my legs. So, in order to do it properly, I need to rush my chakra through my legs. That sounds simple enough, considering I had done something far more advanced. I can feel the chakra prickling inside my body, and it _does_ seem stronger where I'm focusing, so if I convert that to movement _speed_...

I crouch down tense my muscles, and start circling my chakra through my legs. Once I got a good spin on it, I hold my hands above my head, just in case it goes too strong and I smack my head. My thighs are starting to tremble from the tension. Okay, so, all I have to is let it go, and it should reinforce my existing strength for...

I let it go.

As expected, I went a little too strong, and I slam into the rafters so hard the building trembles. I probably would have given myself a concussion, like that. Instead, I slam into my hands, and the lack of head trauma gives me time to quickly direct that spin-sparkle chakra to my hands, which I use to grip the rafters. Again, I go way too hard, and the wood _crunches_ under the grip of my fingers, but hey! I did it! I am currently dangling from the roof.

"What are you doing?" Yaruhiko hisses.

"Ninja stuff," I say.

I glance up at the damage. Surprisingly, while I clearly broke the surface, my fingers aren't really digging into the wood. It looks more like I had applied too much tension to it. The area around my fingertips are all scuffed up and curling a bit. I wonder if I might be releasing chakra unintentionally; it seems like something I would do, with my previous track record.

I start swinging myself back and forth, until I have enough momentum to release my hands and catch the rafters with my legs. Then I swing myself again, so I can catch the rafters with my arms. Satisfied with my excellent climbing ability, I start rotating on the chunk of wood until I'm right-side-up, right in front of my target.

"You could have just used the bookcase," Yaruhiko points out.

"That's not how a ninja would do it," I retort.

He scoffs at me while I collect myself, squeezing out a small splinter from my finger and rearranging so I'm sitting on my knees. I give Yaruhiko a triumphant look. He ignores me.

"So," I prompt, "What's with this 'dog of Konoha' thing? Everyone loves ninjas! They're strong, protect us, have cool magic powers..."

"Indoctrination sure starts early, huh?" He spits.

_Wow._ Okay, maybe a little more intense than I thought. I can probably work with this. I've been reading psychology books! That's almost like social training. Probably.

"I'm not really interested in fighting for Konoha's behalf," I attempt to explain. "I actually want to protect Konoha's citizens. Or help them out. A ninja doesn't _have_ to be a military thing."

"You really think so?" He says bitterly, dropping his book and leaning forward to look me straight in the eye. "My dad was a hero, and Konoha threw him away, because he wasn't a hero in the way they _wanted_ him to be. You can pretend to be a ninja all you like, but the real thing isn't the same as a _backyard game_."

Ah.

I had forgotten a key thing, when living in a military city's orphanage; a lot of these orphans are aware of their military parents. It ranges from kids like Toro who had been too young to know their parents but old enough to hear about what they were like, to kids like Yaruhiko. Kids who not only knew their parents, but were the right age to know how it is they died. While I doubt a seven-year-old really has a clear picture of the actual reason his parents are dead, he still has the knowledge that his family is gone and there's nothing he can do to bring them back.

It's a lonely state to be in.

It also reveals a fatal flaw in my approach. My first priority was automatically to protect my orphanage (and in extension, the rest of Konoha) from the possible future of that Snake Villain's army, but even if I succeed in that, in the long term, I'm not doing _enough_. Eventually, as they get older, some of them are going to be ninjas, and they'll eventually be met with Konoha's forced peace.

The Uchiha clan is proof enough of how poorly this can turn out.

"...Fine. Have it your way. We'll find a third member on our own." I pull my legs out from under me and slide around so they're dangling off the rafter. "But I want you to remember something."

"What's that?" He asks with obvious lack of interest.

"If Konoha's so broken it won't recognize its heroes...Then my objective as a ninja will be to fix it." He flinches, surprised at the declaration. I meet his eyes with a hard look. "If it's as an advisor, or even as Hokage, I'll make Konohagakure a village that loves the people who fight for it, because I'm not the kind of person who sits on their hiney crying about it."

I slide off the rafter and land smoothly on the ground. I don't feel like studying right now. There's too much on my mind. Reforming poor military practice isn't something you can do by punching everything you don't like and encouraging other people to do the same. It needs connections, more understanding of the system, and knowing who holds the power. I unfortunately have none of these things, because my head is still in murky halves and faded impressions.

I have to do everything manually, I suppose.

"...Natsume-kun?"

I jerk my head up at the sudden voice. I had stopped in the middle of the hallway, and at the end of it, Tomoya is looking at me with an unreadable expression. He moves hesitantly, like he wants to say something, but then he pulls his hand back and averts his gaze.

"Sorry," I say. "Just read about something that made me really mad. I'm in kind of a bad mood."

"Oh. Okay." His voice is faint. He obviously doesn't believe me (or at least suspects that's not all there is to it), but that's fine. As long as I'm not doing anything bad, it's okay if I act a little weird, for a while. I've only just started planning; once I work out all of these issues, I'll go back to normal, and he won't have to worry.

Resolute in this, I start looking for Toro.

* * *

><p>Luckily, the first place I looked was the yard, and that was exactly where Toro had seated himself. Specifically, pouting by the gate. I run up to meet him.<p>

"Sorry, no luck on Yaruhiko. Looks like we're going to have to find someone else."

He snorts and folds his arms tighter. Toro has always looked very much like your average generic Asian boychild - shaven head, thick eyebrows, and wide eyes as a completed set - but the youth aspect sort of compounds with the way he's scowling. It's sickeningly cute, to be honest.

"Don't be like that. Everyone wants to be a ninja. There's gotta be someone who didn't sign up right away! They don't even have to be seven!"

"None of the kids our age here are going to, or they already went to the Academy," Toro whines.

"Well, yeah, but there are people outside of the village too! We could ask one of the civilians in the neighbourhood!"

"But how are we going to find anyone if we're not allowed to go out by ourselves?" Toro rebuffs. He has a point.

"Uh...Weeell..." I grunt.

"What are you two up to now?"

We both look up to see Yukie coming in through the gate in civilian clothes. (By which I mean he isn't wearing his headband and he's wearing a wool-lined dark blue _dotera_ rather than his usual pale half-sleeve_ hanten_ coat. Why he would wear a winter coat in the dead of summer is honestly beyond me.) He's also holding a brown paper bag and one of the most horrendously ugly pieces of Taiyaki I've ever seen. It looks less like a fish and more like a distorted slug with bug eyes and a poorly etched mesh on its bean-shaped body. Horrifying.

"Natsume was gonna get us an apprenticeship but Yaruhiko doesn't want to join us so now we can't," Toro says.

Yukie narrows his eyes at him. "You of all people should know how much that kid hates dealing with ninjas. Can't you think of how _he_ feels?"

"But I can be a good ninja this way, if I can get a third guy! If we don't have a third guy, I can't be a ninja!" Toro argues.

"Find some shmuck to fill the space, then. You can at least manage that, can't you?" Yukie takes a big bite out of his taiyaki. Well, it_ is_ a nice golden brown, so maybe it's just terrible from an aesthetic standpoint. Food is food.

"But we're not allowed out of the orphanage! And shouldn't you be on guard?"

He shrugs. "Another genin team is on the job too. It's my day off today, and I'm celebrating with take-out."

"Take-out which _I_ bought, _again_," a voice declares with a bitter edge. I lean out the gate to see_ Hayashi_, of all people. I look wildly between them, attempting to connect them in some way, but I can't think of any reason they should be associating. From what I understand, Hayashi and Tomoya haven't spoken in years (if at all), so why would he know a Wakahisa orphan?

Better yet, why would he pretend to not know Yukie's name if they're familiar with each other? Besides totally baiting me, because the only person in this entire village who seems to trust me anymore is Toro. It's a hard life for an amnesiac orphan.

"You two are friends?" I ask.

"Uh...I dunno...More like he kind of creeped around the orphanage when I was younger, and I started blackmailing him for free dinner. I decided graduating to Independence wasn't a reason to stop," Yukie says easily.

"You don't want to know how much this brat gutted me to celebrate becoming a Genin," Hayashi whispers to me.

I look between Hayashi, who is scratching the back of his head unhappily, to Yukie, who is stuffing the rest of his ugly taiyaki in his mouth with a bland expression. Then I look back at Hayashi.

"This explains..._so much_ about you two."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Hayashi whines.

"Yeah," says Yukie. He digs into his bag for something else to eat.

"_What's that supposed to mean?_" Hayashi repeats vindictively, this time at Yukie.

"Yeah," says Yukie.

"Anyway, since you're off duty, and Hayashi isn't assigned to watch over the orphanage, can't you help us find a third member for the apprenticeship program?"

"Nah," says Yukie. He takes a small cake from his bag and stuffs it in his mouth.

"You little..." Hayashi grunts, glaring at his sweet-toothed companion. He lets out an ugly snort and folds his arms. "It's fine, I'll take you. It can't be that hard to find someone who wants to be a ninja in Konoha. We're the best village there is."

"S'because all the other villages are terrible," Yukie grunts through a mouthful of cake. "Pretty sure Ame is still in the middle of a civil war. 'Cause it's terrible."

Toro jumps to his feet, mood completely lifted. "You're really gonna help us? That's great! Who are you?"

Yukie swallows and holds out a hand to Hayashi. "This is Hayashi Kiyomori-san. He's a Chuunin, and I'm assuming the one in charge of your apprenticeship program," he introduces.

Wow. I actually forgot he had a first name. I really need to work on my memory more.

"Wow! What's it like, being a ninja? My dad was a Jounin before he died. A Jounin is like a super ninja, right? Are you going to be a Jounin? Do you think I could be a Jounin?" Toro rattles off, practically vibrating with excitement.

"Woah, woah, one step at a time!" Hayashi laughs, holding his hands up placatingly. "Well, a Jounin is a ninja with exceptional talent. There are also Special Jounin, who are only exceptionally talented in a single field. Chuunin are usually much more balanced. Every ninja is important in their own way."

Toro trembles even more. This kid is like a tiny shaved chihuahua. "That's what I wanna be...!"

"Yeah, okay, that's...great. Okay, go run and tell a caretaker you're leaving, I'll be right here." Hayashi shoos him away. I stay put, mainly because they already know I have to leave the orphanage constantly now that I have to do community service.

Instead, I focus on Yukie. "Why are you here, anyway?"

"Mmm...came to deliver something." He digs into his coat and pulls out a letter. "Dinner invite or something. Tomoya-san never gets out of the house, and his friends are very worried about his social deprivation."

"What about us?"

"Do you really think a 25-year-old man can get a proper social experience a flock of babies like you?" Yukie snorts.

"Pbbt. What kind of people are Tomoya's friends, anyway?" I ask. I never actually considered Tomoya in the context of a _person_. It's hard to imagine him having a life outside the orphanage. Hell, he _lives_ here. His life begins and ends with us, from what I've seen.

"Most of us are from the orphanage. Since we grew up around him, we all love him very much," Yukie says with false sweetness. "I think Mirune is the only friend he has that didn't come from the orphanage, to be honest."

"He really_ doesn't_ get out much, huh?"

"Kids are his _entire life_. It's like he's trying to Dad all of Konoha into submission. Soon a bunch of Wakahisa kids are going to take over the village and turn him into Hokage, I swear," Yukie snickers.

"Well, that's pretty unlikely, considering," Hayashi notes.

Yukie's lazy humour dies down into a cold, secluded look. "...Yeah. That's true."

...So Yukie knows about Tomoya's Mysterious Event too? What the hell even happened for _Yukie_ to know about it? The war ended when Yukie was a baby, right? If an uninvolved Wakahisa knows about it, does that mean someone is going to eventually tell me? Like, if I get Tomoya drunk and interrogate him, or something. Maybe ask one of his friends who know. This is really bothering me.

Thankfully, Toro appears to save me from my own thoughts. "Michiyo-san and Tomoya say we can go but we have to be home before the sun sets and also that if Hayashi doesn't watch us carefully she is going to break his legs and if we get hurt she's going to break a few other things too!"

Ah, yes. Michiyo's personal brand of ferocity. Always a pleasure. Hayashi is also very familiar with it, based on how he's sweating.

"Y-yes, of course! I wouldn't let anything happen to you two _precious_ darlings! Now, let's go, hurry hurry. Say bye to Yukie!"

"Bye, Yukie," Toro and I say in unison.

"See ya," Yukie waves.

Hayashi threads us through tiny backstreets, as usual. I don't want to ask him about it, but I still can't think of a reason for him to avoid main streets like this. Maybe he's taking in the sights of life. Maybe he's overwhelmed by crowds. _It's a mystery_. It also bugs me because I usually take main streets when walking through the village, and I don't have a damned clue where the hell we're going when he does this.

He looks cheerful and oblivious, another thing that's irritating me. I feel he should show some sort of indication that he knows about my two faces, and That's Okay, like...a wink? Nice Guy Pose? Anything? He's basically pretending nothing is wrong, and it's pissing me off. And scaring me. A lot of emotions are happening that could be avoided if he'd just say 'you have an ability I've never heard of and that's okay'. I feel like he's going to lead us to a dead end and arrest me before I can escape.

We're nearing the park, I think, when Hayashi stops and looks up to the air, like he's heard something.

"_Excellent_," he says. Then he picks us both up by the hips and jumps up onto a nearby roof. Toro lets out a little squawk of surprise, and I nearly flop out of his grip on our way down.

From our new vantage point, we can see what caught his attention - on the other side of the row of buildings is another thin street, this one featuring a group of children in a group. They're bustling around a single child, yelling and jeering at them. Hayashi makes a noise of satisfaction and jumps down onto the street. This time Toro and I actually have the consciousness to grip onto him as he does so.

"Leave, foul cretins!" Hayashi booms, drawing himself up. The kids look up at him in shock. The image of a Chuunin with a child sitting on each arm suddenly appearing is admittedly a little odd. I'd be shocked too.

They get the idea, though, and scamper off, leaving the targeted kid to shrink back in awe of the child-wielding ninja. Hayashi drops both of us to the ground and approaches them.

The kid is small, though taller than Toro, and decidedly feminine. Her short, strawberry-tinted brown hair is decorated with flowers around her temples, and she's wearing a yellow coat over dark teal half-pants. When Hayashi takes a step forward, she blinks her huge, watery golden eyes and takes a step back. This is the most adorable human being I have ever seen in my entire life.

"Hey, there," Hayashi soothes. "My name's Hayashi Kiyomori. What's yours?"

"Y-y-y-Yuria," the girl hiccups.

"Yuria...that's a nice name. Were those kids bullying you, Yuria-chan?"

She sniffles and nods. "They s-said that I'm just a pushover, and u-u-ugly."

Sick, sick, disgusting _lies_. These children are clearly jealous little monsters. I'm appalled.

"Well, that's very untrue. You're absolutely lovely, Yuria-chan! Now, why would you let them lie to you like that?" You tell her, Hayashi.

"B-because they're older. And I'm scared that they'll...that they'll yell at me m-more if I say anything," Yuria says.

"That's terrible, Yuria-chan! Even though you're such a sweet, lovely girl," Hayashi says dramatically, shaking his head with his hands up. "Really...wouldn't it be nice if you were _stronger_?"

Oh, no.

He _isn't_.

"Y-yeah...but I'm not good at anything...and I think that..." She sobs again. "I think they're right, sometimes..."

"Ridiculous! They're wrong! They're only picking on you because they think you're an easy target! If you're better than them, they'll think it's too much effort, and leave you alone, right?" Hayashi enthuses.

He _wouldn't_.

She nods and wipes her eyes. "I-I don't know how to be strong though."

"Well, what about being a ninja? Ninjas are strong, right? If you were a tough kunoichi, they'd never bully you!"

He _couldn't_.

"If I was...but...I'm not g-good enough to be a kunoichi." Her lower lip trembles. "I didn't even enter the Academy properly. I'm just..."

"Yuria-chan." He kneels down on one knee and grips her shoulder. "What if I told you that I knew a way for you to learn how to be stronger than everyone else entering the Academy?"

_UNBELIEVABLE_.

I watch in fascinated horror as Hayashi smoothly convinces poor Yuria of the benefits and training privileges of the apprenticeship program, in a manner I can only describe as indoctrination. It is absolutely despicable how he manipulates this poor, confused angel in less than a minute. If not despicable, actually kind of amazing. This is someone who's had _practice_ manipulating people to serve his own ends.

Toro is, of course, completely oblivious to Hayashi's nefarious puppet-mastery. That part of him is also predictable.

"So, Yuria-chan...do you want to become a strong kunoichi under my guidance?"

She takes one long, thick sniffle and lets out a determined breath. "Y-yeah!"

Hayashi stands, turns to us, and clasps his own hand in triumph. "Got one."

"No, you don't 'got one'! What the hell is that! I don't know if it's half-assed or outright heartless, you _swindler!_" I retort.

He gestures to Yuria. "Third member. Got one."

"_Don't give me that_! Aren't you just leading some impressionable civilian kid astray? This isn't what we meant by 'picking up a civilian, you know!" I try to argue.

"What are you talking about?" Hayashi says in fake hurt. "They're happy, aren't they?"

"Strong..." Yuria mumbles, clenching her fist.

"I'm gonna be so cool..." Toro mumbles, clenching his fist.

"But-! You-! They're just-!_ Urgh_!" I stomp my feet. "You're so gross! Gross gross gross gross _gross_!"

"Now now, don't say that. If Yuria-chan thinks it's too much, she can always quit!"

Yuria shakes her head, looking into the far distance. "No...I'm going to become a woman!"

My _god_.

Hayashi claps excitedly. "See, see? Just because she lacked confidence doesn't mean she wasn't ready! She just needed an incentive! You're too narrow-minded, Natsume-kun!"

And with that, he pushes Yuria along, and Toro follows in step. The three of them march down the road, leaving me to stare after them in horror.

Seriously. What a _jerk_.

* * *

><p><em>AN: <em>_Some Japanese stuff cropped up in this chapter; Yukie's coats are actually all traditional Japanese winter coats; the hanten is a quilted half coat, and the dotera is a heavily padded coat generally associated with sloppy casual wear and old people. (Though, to note, in his first reference picture I drew he's not actually wearing either of these.) Taiyaki is a japanese bread shaped like a fish and filled with a paste made out of sweetened azuki beans._

_Also, since it's never mentioned anywhere besides the poll: Yaruhiko, Toro, Yukie, and Tomoya all have the 'Wakahisa' surname too. _


	12. Life Courses

**Chapter 12: Life Courses**

* * *

><p>Hayashi carts us off to the Hokage tower, gets our papers filed, collects three notebooks, and then carts us right back out again in less than three minutes, which I would find impressive if he weren't speedwalking through the entire thing and mentioned 'got Hiori to do these' when submitting the documents. Though that's a little amazing in its own right.<p>

The notebooks turn out to be ninkana workbooks, which will be our homework during the apprenticeship program. I already know ninkana at this point, so I just flip through to the back of the book to review my ninja shorthand. While I can certainly_ read_ it, I can never remember what each of these little symbols actually _mean_. For example, ending a sentence in a simplistic symbol called _yoshu_ means 'to eloquently request with the subtle inference of desperation'. That's bullshit. That's not even real Japanese.

Toro and Yuria are suitably excited to start their education, though, so good for them.

Hayashi also got a little collection of looseleaf papers stapled together at the top, apparently our E-class 'missions'. Makes sense, considering they're just favours that any old civilian can fulfill. Not really worth a whole scroll.

The ninkana booklets are the only real ninja thing we get that morning. After that, Hayashi records the time (for the purpose of my community service hours), and takes us around town for our tasks.

The first is a disabled man who can't go shopping for himself. Hayashi specifically tells me that the leaping nonsense I pulled off during the last shopping trip will _not be tolerated_. Thankfully, there is no sale to necessitate it, so the whole trip is closed within half an hour.

Next is gardening, taking food portions to the Independents in the low-income apartments, and doing light chores for an old woman because her daughter couldn't make it. By the time we're done, it's only noon.

"Are doing favours for people part of being a ninja?" Toro asks while he dries his hands on a towel hanging from the stove handle.

"My mom says that doing goodwill brings goodwill onto you, and my dad says it builds character," Yuria says.

"Yukie says chores are for nerds with no money," replies Toro.

Hayashi rolls his eyes. "I'm pretty sure Yukie was raised by 10-year-olds. Don't listen to him. What would _Tomo-chan_ say?"

"Tomoya-san says that doing chores means that Chihiro is less likely to cut off her own hair again," Toro says thoughtfully. "He said that after I helped clean the floors and Chihiro cut off all her hair."

"Orphanages are terrifying, and I'm glad I was never raised in one. Now go on, get. Pick out somewhere to eat for lunch while you wait." He shoos us out of the house and goes to talk to the old woman, leaving us alone in the middle of the street. Considering Toro and I are orphans and there are orphan-hoarding human traffickers roaming about, I'm not sure that's entirely _wise_, but he's the trained professional. What the heck do I know.

"Are we allowed to pick just anything?" Yuria frets.

"Iunno. Natsume, do you think he'll treat us to anything?" Toro bounces the question to me.

"Uh...I guess? Maybe somewhere cheaper. Yakiniku might be a little too much, right?"

Toro shrugs. "I don't go out to eat. I like the food at home."

"Then ramen is okay, right?"

"I think ramen is cheaper, and it's really good," Yuria confirms.

Hayashi appears above the three of us with a goofy grin on his face, papers in hand. "Ramen, is it? I think I can manage that!"

He slides the papers into his Important Sensei Bag (TM) and takes Toro and Yuria's hands. I don't miss the significance of it, but I don't exactly know _why_ he does it, either. Maybe he just thinks I'm more capable? Less emotionally needy? It is a mystery.

We hit a main street, finally, and I quickly look to Hayashi for a reaction. He's looking around a lot. For a threat? Does he think we're going to get kidnapped by human traffickers in broad daylight? Or is there some other threat I'm not aware of? Or...

Oooor he grew up in a warzone and never unlearned the caution inherent in those surroundings.

Man. _I'm_ a jerk.

I pout at the ground and fight down the blush creeping onto my face. I had gotten so into painting Hayashi as a huge dick that I forgot that he has his own issues, and his own history. Just because he's ditzy and manipulative doesn't mean he doesn't have his _own_ dark secrets. I'm seriously losing my sense of empathy, and I'm not sure if it's my narrow planning scope or the child body that's causing it.

Hayashi stops in front of a store and releases his child companions. I look up to see where he took us, and boggle.

_Ichiraku_.

Wow. Is it okay to be here? It feels like I'm about to enter hallowed ground. The holy land. The fast food equivalent of a church. It feels _rude_ coming here. Perhaps I could like, subtly deter them from going in? I really do not want to freeze up with paranoia at the possible appearance of any wayward main characters while eating lunch.

But unfortunately, I don't get to make that choice. Yuria and Toro are already flying into the stall. God dammit. With a sigh, I join them.

The shop is warm, full of glowing golden-brown wood and steam and the smell of savory broth. Yuria and Toro struggle to get onto their stools, because they are tiny, and I hop onto mine. Hayashi slips in next to me, and gives me a serene smile. I'm going to piss myself with terror._ I haven't emotionally prepared myself to meet Uzumaki Naruto_. I'm going to fuck it all up. I know I will. This is the worst situation.

Then again, Naruto doesn't seem to be here. Okay. I can work with that.

"What can I get for you?" The owner asks.

"Missso ra- ramen," I garble, surprised by his sudden question.

"Miso ramen!" Toro yells.

"Sh-Shoyu ramen," Yuria whispers.

"Tonkotsu," Hayashi says lazily.

The owner gets to work on our orders, and I get to work on vibrating out of my skin. I keep looking beyond the fabric of the stall's opening, seeking a narrow little blond boy. I hadn't worked on a good introduction. He is the most key character in my plan, here. He's the _main character_. I need a good way to negotiate him into my plot, possibly boost his career standing and use his position as leverage, and I don't even know how to greet him. The last time we met I screamed at him and passed out. I fucked up. I'm so dead. RIP me.

"Are you okay?" Hayashi asks me. I shriek in response. He gives me a funny look.

"I, UH," I gulp, digging my fingernails into my thighs, "I'M FINE."

"Are you, sure, because-"

"SO HOW..." I take a deep breath. "How about this Academy stuff? What are we training for?"

Hayashi narrows his eyes a little, but lets the subject drop. He pulls a scroll out from his bag and unfurls it a little, revealing blank paper. Then he takes three looseleaf pieces of paper, three pencils, and an ink brush out. "Note-taking time!"

We each take a piece of paper and a pencil and focus on him. He seems to like the attention, because he straightens out the posture and dips his brush with a flourish.

"In order to graduate to the position of Genin, you need a passing grade in at least _three_ of six major courses. These courses are split into three practical, and three written. Got it?"

We scribble this onto our pieces of paper.

"Good. These courses are as follows: Physical technique, Chakra technique, and Observational Technique - this includes understanding and breaking Genjutsu. The written forms are Tactics, Politics, and Survival knowledge. My job is to figure out what you exceed in, what you don't, and picking a best route for your ultimate graduation."

Yuria is writing furiously, and Toro is making more excited noises. I carefully compose a chart with these courses, and look over them. Well, unless I learn how to control my chakra, Chakra Technique and Genjutsu are right out. I could probably land a solid score in the rest, though. Four out of six isn't half bad.

"There are also elective courses, to hone your skill in a particular field. These currently include Weapon Arts, Sword Arts, Healing Arts, Seal Arts, and Summoning arts for Jutsu, and Kunoichi classes, Trapping technique, Sensor training, and Interrogation technique as general skillset classes."

Holy _shit_.

"Could you, uh, try repeating that?" I ask nervously.

"Oh, sorry. So there's..." He slowly repeats the elective classes back to me, and I scribble them down on the side before adding them to my chart. I know it's a school for soldiers, but _damn_. How many people even take these? I know Kunoichi classes must be a thing, but wow. Where do I even_ start_ with this stuff?

"What's a summoning?" Toro asks loudly.

"Summoning is all about forming a contract with chakra-based creatures. They'll do what you say, and can't hurt you as long as you've summoned them with their scroll. Let's see...A friend of mine is contracted with nin-dogs, for example," Hayashi explains. "At the Academy, they'll give you a small contract with nin-ants."

"_Ants_?" I repeat dubiously.

"Very big ants," he elaborates. "There's a lot of them, and their contract can be easily duplicated, so they're used to teach students about summoning. They can be killed by a stiff breeze and will run away with your stuff if you try to use them as pack mules, but if you're dying and okay with being driven off into a random direction, they're at least useful for rescue. Generally they just enjoy carrying things. Please do not summon them unless you are dying, they _will_ find a way to ruin your life otherwise."

"That's horrifying," I say, and write all of it down.

"You'll also be taking the same classes you were as a civilian; maths, geography, Japanese, what-have-you. They aren't required to graduate, though."

"That sounds like a terrible idea," I say.

"So does gaggles of children summoning giant chakra ants, but I never see anyone complaining about that," he sighs.

"I'm going to summon big ants," Toro says with steel-faced determination.

Hayashi gestures to him. "See?"

"I-I think I might not be good at any of these extra classes..." Yuria mumbles. "Is it okay if I only take Kunoichi classes?"

"Well, you're only allowed two. They wouldn't be able to squeeze any curriculum in otherwise," Hayashi snickers.

"Why don't you practice with the basics to see if you're interested?" I suggest. "Who knows, maybe you'll find a hidden talent in the sealing arts!"

"_Shirushi no Jutsu_," Hayashi corrects lazily. "_Fuuinjutsu_ is an entirely different subject."

"How so?"

"Seals are jutsu used by reforming the chakra in the hands, ink patterns, or other methods. _Sealing_ is the art of utilizing space-time jutsu in ways impossible with just the body. Fuuinjutsu, at its most basic, is relatively simple, but as it gets more elaborate, it becomes almost impossible to master. The only ones who had that sort of skill were the ninja of Uzushiogakure and Jiraiya of the Great Sannin. It's an incredibly elaborate art."

Yuria's eyes bug. "I-I-I don't think I'm quite r-ready for uhm, the seals, so..."

Hayashi snickers. "It's okay. You shouldn't feel obligated to rush into a lifetime subject of learning. You can even take these elective courses after graduating."

Yuria lets out a sigh of relief and goes back to writing her notes. I give her a pitying smile. She really hasn't had much time to acclimate herself to the current situation, and only really has the burning Will Of Fire to keep her going. I hope she'll last the half-year training regimen.

I tidy my own notes up. They're in ninkana, as I expect the school's to be, and organized neatly into different sections. I should paste this to the wall of my cubbyhole. Better yet, the wall of the Security Station, once I have a chance to set it up. The circumstances aren't right yet, and I don't want to be caught using it before I have the opportunity to place both sides of my intended setup.

I finish my notes with one last slash, and look up in triumph.

There is a bright yellow blur right next to my head.

I leap back, crashing into Hayashi, who paints a streak of ink across my arm in surprise. Yuria shrieks, and Toro...Toro sits there, unfazed, because Toro is too positive to react negatively to sudden appearances of a seven-year-old _goddamn jinchuuriki_.

"What's with that," Naruto says, pouting at my notes. "It's just a bunch of weird scribbles."

"That's ninkana," Hayashi strains. "You learn how to write it in Tactic classes."

He huffs and folds his arms, squinting suspiciously at him. "Then why does_ he_ know it?"

Naruto looks down at me, and his pout drops off his face in favour one of fear and hesitation. Well, he obviously recognizes me. Cool. I wipe my ink-covered arm off on the back of my paper and try to avoid eye contact. What can I say here? _'Sorry the very sight of you sent me into a fit of screaming, followed by unconsciousness'_? I haven't even thought of an excuse for that yet.

"U-uhm..." He shuffles his feet and looks at Hayashi, like he's expecting him to chase him off with a broom. Hayashi's face is very still, very firm, and uncharacteristically cold. No, is he a Naruto-hater too? Please don't make this harder for me, dude. I could improvise. I'm not good at it, but I could do it.

"You..." Hayashi starts, but I jump in before he can traumatize this poor child even further.

"I'm sorry!" I shout, bowing my head as far as I can while still saying seated.

Naruto backs off. "H-huh?"

"W-well..." Oh, to hell with it. "When we first met, I ended up having a...an episode...and I'm sorry. It must have scared you a lot. I didn't mean to break down like that."

"Oh. Uh." He shuffles his feet again. "I mean, you didn't mean it, right?"

"Right!" I snap my head up and outstretch a hand eagerly. "My name is Wakahisa Natsume! I'm a member of the orphanage of the Wakahisa clan! It's a pleasure to meet your acquaintance!"

Naruto stares at the hand with wide blue eyes, thoroughly confused. Please don't tell me I fucked it up, please don't tell me I fucked it up, please don't-

He takes the hand and gives me an award-winning grin. "I'm Uzumaki Naruto! I'm an Independent, now! It's a pleasure to meet your acquaintance -like this!"

Toro looks between us wildly, and then he thrusts his hand out too. "I'm Wakahisa Toro! I'm a Wakahisa orphan too! It's a pleasure to meet your acquitaninsense!"

Naruto's grin widens even more, and he laughs, shaking Toro's hands wildly. With them both next to each other, they're a similar in a few ways - mainly being excessively loud and socially forward - but different in others. Toro has more of an obedient innocence to him, while Naruto is much more mischievous. Interesting.

Yuria mumbles a bit before hopping off her chair and thrusting her own palm in Naruto's face. "I'm Nanase Yuria! I have a mom and dad, who are also part of the Nanase family! I am very, very pleased to meet you!"

"Pleased to meet you!" Toro inexplicably yells.

"Pleased to meet you!" Naruto shouts back, gripping Yuria's hand and shaking it wildly.

"Pleased to meet you!" I join in, laughing.

"I'm Hayashi Kiyomori. Pleased to meet you," Hayashi grins, outstretching his own hand. Naruto hesitates for a moment, looking at Hayashi's face for some sign of imminent betrayal. I hold my breath. I don't know if Naruto has trust issues yet. Hell, I don't know if he has much in the way of trust issues later in life. Detailed characterization like that is a little lost on my not-memories. Still, Hayashi had a pretty stoney expression, and that might be a little...

Naruto swallows, breathes in, and gives Hayashi's hand a firm, determined shake. Hayashi clasps it and smiles down at him cheerfully. Naruto looks like he's just learned the meaning of happiness.

"What's all this shouting about?" The shop owner harrumphs, placing out ramen orders in front of our notes with a suspicious scowl.

We all look at each other with childish smiles, and turn to face him. With flawless synchronization only possible from excitable young children, we shout at the top of our lungs.

"We're very pleased to meet you!"

* * *

><p><em>AN: I had to rewrite this at least three times, balancing between unnecessary information overload and mood whiplash and so much stuff. And then I got a writer's block. DAMN.<em>

_(I'm writing Naruto's verbal tic as "Like this/like that/you know", since that's what it technically translates to, depending on where he tacks on the -ttebayo.) _

_Oh yes! I added a character poll to my profile! Vote for your favourite original character! My favourite is Yukie, because he's trash._

_ As usual, thank you for reading, and I appreciate any and all feedback! Every review is a little miracle. I often don't know how to reply to them, but it gives me such brilliant joy.  
><em>

_EDIT: Added some art for this chapter to the profile!_


	13. Paranoia

_AN: Sorry for the long wait. I have a full-time job, which doesn't technically occupy much time for fic-writing, but I also have a running original project, which does. Updates will be slow and scattered from now on, but I'll still be holding on. Here's a short-ish chapter to hold you over._

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><p><strong>Chapter 13: Paranoia<strong>

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><p>Toro and Naruto get on like a house on fire.<p>

It's weird and uncomfortable to let them go at it like that, because I get this vague feeling that Naruto is supposed to have a basic understanding of loneliness, but the poor little blond looks so excited about meeting someone who accepts him unquestioningly that I can't bring myself to say anything about it.

Yuria, caught a little off guard at the sudden change of status quo, does her best to attract Naruto's attention and engage him in conversation, like befriending this child is_ imperative_ to becoming a strong, independent kunoichi. Again, I can't bring myself to correct her behaviour.

Hayashi is..._edgy_. Not in a distrustful way, but in a political way - Naruto could very well be a threat, but since he doesn't seem like one so far, he's allowing him to hang around. Hayashi is kind of terrible with this interpersonal stuff, but his instincts as a ninja are on point. He might even have something good to teach us when it comes to skill training.

I put on an air of casual acceptance and try to avoid the black hole of cheerful friendly bond-making Toro and Naruto are producing. I think they're talking about catching stag beetles right now, and Naruto has suggested they collect a bunch and let them loose on the Kunoichi classes as a prank. Seven-year-old boys are a _nightmare_. (Never mind that I'm currently pretending to be a seven-year-old boy.)

Finally, the topic eases back to what exactly we all happen to be doing here. With a mouthful of an order of miso ramen (Hayashi's grudging treat), he asks "How come you get to have someone teach you ninja stuff?"

"It's an apprenticeship program," Hayashi explains. "Academy students aren't allowed to take them, as it disrupts their studying regimen; it would require constant communication with all the student's teachers, in the very least."

That felt a little _too_ pointed.

Naruto just looks through Toro's scrawled notes, oblivious to the rejection. "Why've you got a bunch of classes you don't need on here?"

"Not every ninja becomes a Chuunin," Hayashi sighs. "Normally, after graduation, you would acquire a job that requires basic ninja training, and most of those classes are there to train you for these jobs. The rest are to hone your skills and give you more in-depth lessons on subjects you're less talented in."

"Well, I don't need them, then," Naruto says immediately. Hayashi's eye twitches a little. "Because I'm going to exceed every Hokage -like this!"

"Doesn't that mean you'd have to _be_ Hokage?" I question, a little amazed at his forthrightness when he had been so timid only a few minutes earlier.

Naruto nods. "With the hat and everything! Everyone will see my face carved on that cliff, and they'll _have_ to acknowledge me -like that!"

Toro is trembling so hard I'm afraid he might vibrate straight out of his skin. "Woah...And I was only aiming to be a Jounin...You're so cool!"

I roll my eyes and slurp up the ramen broth. Unbelievable. I had never thought much of Naruto's objectives - mainly because I literally did not remember it without Naruto as a whole to trigger it - but they are _pretty unrealistic_. I mean, he manages to use two moves and a bucketload of chakra to ascend to ninja godhood, I think, but he's trying to be a _political leader_. 'Strong guy' and 'figure of national authority second to the Daimyo' are clearly different things.

"That's a lot of political responsibility," I reason out loud. "Not to mention how much leadership skills you need. In order to even be considered, you'd have to be at the top of your grade in Tactics, at the very least."

Naruto blanches, but keeps a stiff upper lip. "I-I know that! I study tactics every night! I know a bunch of hand signals already!"

"Can you apply it?" I quirk my head. "Can you use this information in a situation that could possibly end in everyone around you dying? Beyond that, you need the strength to protect those very people. That means a good grade in Ninjutsu and Taijutsu too. You need to consider how your every move could put those around you in danger. You can't just run headfirst into these things, you know."

Naruto deflates like a balloon. Yuria and Toro are silent and fidgeting nervously, as if they were the ones who had been chastised. I gulp down another few mouthfuls of broth and point my chopsticks at Naruto. "Focus on what you're good at. Like having a lot of chakra, or...unexpected garishness!"

Naruto blinks. "Unexpected...Garishness?"

"Yeah, you know, like, the kind of thing where people just have to look at you! An atomic bomb as a distraction! If your instincts are good, you could honestly become 'Konoha's #1 Most Unpredictable Ninja'! How can someone plan around something that keeps defying expectation! Right?"

"R-right!" Naruto's posture stiffens. "I'll be super unpredictable -like that!"

"But remember, you also have to be responsible." I take a _naruto_ from my ramen and wave it about for dramatic effect. "Teamwork is a good starting ground for a Hokage. After all, you always have to be conscious of your teammates, and trust and rely in their skills...If you isolate yourself with dreams of grandeur, you're only hurting the situation!"

"T-Teamwork!" Naruto shouts with balled fists. He's starting to remind me of Yuria. I glance behind him, and - oh, boy, she's doing it too. Geez.

"Then, if I'm not strong enough..." Toro mumbles feebly, "It's okay to use teamwork then, too, right?"

"Of course. Lots of ninja teams feature people who are not strong as individual but have useful skills that make them necessary to the group," I grin. "Someone with a good sense of smell would be extremely key to a tracking team, for example!"

"So I only have to master one skill -like that?!" Naruto shouts, suddenly excited again.

Well, he's not..._wrong_?

"I think you should find a versatile skill or two that matches your personality and abilities," I brush off. "For example, if you have a lot of chakra to work with and tend to rush into things, you should try your best with Bunshin and Replacement techniques, which can compound an 'unexpected' nature. Training shouldn't only be honing your skills, but your efficiency in using these skills to make a battle plan. You can't take these apprenticeship classes, but if there's something you don't understand, don't be afraid to ask for extra help."

"You're really cool, Natsume..." Naruto says grudgingly. Toro nods hurriedly in agreement.

"Ah...Well, I've had a month to mull over stuff like this, so..." I rub the back of my head nervously. To be honest, I'm just spinning ideas as I go, but I guess it sounds very adult and composed to their inexperienced ears. I mean, I know _way_ more than they do, to begin with, and I am kind of also a literal adult. (Child brain aside.)

Naruto grins with his arms folded, blatantly thinking up some totally awesome ninja techniques he will probably never be able to pull off. Pep talk successful. Toro, however, goes very, very still next to him. Naruto notices his change in posture and follows his line of sight behind me. The smile slides off his face instantly.

I turn around.

Hayashi's expression is like ice, a harsh and lifeless image of coldness, his eyes staring at the group sightlessly. He seems to be on the verge of something, perhaps speech. My first reaction is _Naruto_, something happened that broke Hayashi's sense of hesitant trust, but then he clenches his jaw and looks at _me_.

_I know way more then they do. _

My heart plummets back into my stomach. I'm sure I could clear another Yamanaka brain scan, given it's another one of Hiori's flash searches - I do not, in fact, technically_ have_ memories, just _memories-of-memories_, that don't properly work unless they're used in a line of thought or in reaction to a concept. If I keep my head blank, I should be able to skirt off by the skin of my teeth.

But the problem isn't getting dragged back to Intelligence to get a flashscan by Hiori, or even worse, to T&I to get a more voracious mind read from someone with a more powerful jutsu, thus ultimately breaking my cover as a member of this dimension.

The problem is that I have built a caricature of a precocious and analytical but ultimately harmless child, and by breaking character to lay some adult wisdom on Naruto, I've violated Hayashi's trust in me.

Hayashi tilts his head slowly, in a way that makes me feel like I'm being stared at by a predator. "Quite right. Really, Natsume, I wonder if you even _need_ these classes."

That was _definitely_ pointed.

"I took everything I knew about ninjas and stewed over it," I say. "A lot."

"Exactly what sort of scrolls does your orphanage library stock, pray tell?"

"I just sort of...Picked it up," I shrug.

"You're smarter than you look," Hayashi says delicately. "Besides the chakra thing."

"Hey. _Anyone_ who doesn't know what chakra is or how it works could make those mistakes," I automatically retort.

"That is absolutely factually untrue, but I am willing to say the amnesia might have a bit to do with it," Hayashi says lazily, and the iciness in his features melts. I'm not sure if that's a good thing. He looks to Naruto with a much more cheerful smile. "Feel free to tag along whenever it strikes you. While you're not allowed to _take_ apprenticeship, you are fully permitted to _coincidentally overhear_ apprenticeship. Now, should I be walking you home?"

"I'm fine by myself," Naruto grins. He's vibrating just as much as Toro, now. "Thank you!"

"Not a problem. Then, I'll be taking my lovely young students home early. We have a long day, tomorrow!" Hayashi pays the shop owner, we finish our bowls, and then we're walked home. I feel like I'm marching towards my death for every step. Hayashi seems wholly unconcerned with my abject terror, and it's probably not because of my incredible poker face. The scenario feels oddly familiar.

Yuria is dropped off at her house and cheerfully waves at us while jumping up and down and grasping her little sheet of class options like it's her diploma. I have no doubt it's going to be pasted on her wall. That leaves me and Toro.

Hayashi takes us to the orphanage. I wait for the pin to drop. Every nerve in my body feels like it's frozen solid and on fire at the same time. My companions are oblivious to my emotional state, and we pause at the front gate of the orphanage. Toro moves to enter, giving Hayashi an opportunity to confront me directly. The door slides open. I stare at the ground, waiting for him to say something, anything.

"Well, see you tomorrow."

And then he leaves.

I stare after his retreating back. Then, after much deliberation, shout at the top of my lungs, in English:

"**_DICK!_**"

* * *

><p><strong>Hayashi Kiyomori<strong>

* * *

><p>Kiyomori storms into Hiori's office and throws himself into the chair by the door like he belongs there. Seeing as Hayashi Kiyomori and Yamanaka Hiori have been teammates since they were ten years old, this behaviour is entirely expected and does not phase Hiori in the slightest. She still throws a broken chunk of scroll base at him, to communicate disgruntlement.<p>

"Theoretical situation, here, entirely made up and not at all relevant to anything I may or may not have been doing recently," Kiyomori says in a rush, "Imagine, say, a person under the influence of a hitherto unknown memory erasing jutsu was assigned to live in an orphanage, and this person had a very strong interest in being a ninja, and this orphanage also features a demoted-ninja caretaker with a very..._special_ inclination towards children, would it be too paranoid to be concerned if this child suddenly have incredibly advanced comprehension of D-class information?"

Hiori fixes him with a blank look. "Are you honestly asking me that as if we don't both know exactly what you're talking about, or are you just having me on?"

"Please just answer the question."

"Fine, but I'm not playing around. Yes, it is probably a little concerning that Wakahisa Tomoya may be instructing this mystery jutsu kid with information that he is not legally permitted to share. But we also do not have enough proof to charge him. Why?"

"I mean," Kiyomori rubs his face with his hand, using the other to clutch the armrest. "I mean, I haven't paid him much mind-"

"You've been openly avoiding Wakahisa for the past _thirteen years_. Literally since the_ moment you met him_."

"-_But_ we haven't been really looking into him in the past five or six years, have we?" He continues urgently. "That's a little...I mean..."

"He's _crazy_, not dangerous. He has no reason to hurt Konoha, or any of it's citizens. We had no idea he even had the_ ability_ to hurt other people until the end of the war. He failed the Academy, during wartime! He was in the Reformation Unit!"

"Well, that's the problem," Kiyomori continues on wildly. "It just occurred to me, horrifyingly, in a ramen stand, that the Reformers were stripped of the right to perform that after the end of the war, leaving only the basics of chakra therapy."

"So? Chakra therapy still works fine."

"That's not- Listen." Kiyomori sits up straight. "This isn't about the kid, or the best way to use chakra on the brain, or Wakahisa Tomoya's actions during the war. Let's just lay the facts out, right here, and tell me if I'm just paranoid. Okay?"

"I...Okay. What's the problem," Hiori sighs.

"Okay. In the year after the war, the Fourth Hokage took the initiative to dissolve the Reformation Unit. That means that the techniques to use Genjutsu to psychologically condition those undergoing therapy has been effectively banned in all countries with treaties instated."

"Go on?"

"That means every numbered ninja with the ability is being closely tracked, with their missions tallied and their activity counted. Every major business cross-references them. Any new ninja displaying knowledge of the technique is immediately registered. The only reason it's not banned outright is because of its use against Killing Intent. In short, _absolute monitoring for every Reformer and ninja with that ability_."

"Okay."

"Okay, and this is what I just remembered in the ramen stand," Kiyomori says, a little hysterically. "Remember how Wakahisa Tomoya requested to be stripped of his ID number roughly _three months before the end of the war_?"

Hiori freezes.

Very, very slowly, she gets up.

"What exactly are you getting at?"

"Like you said, he's crazy, not dangerous. He's probably just being a very supportive father figure giving an obvious genius some leeway. That's why they let him have the orphanage in the first place; well-adjusted kids means a stable village." Hayashi buries his face in his hands. "We can surmise that he's been keeping 'problem children' calm for _ages_ with Genjutsu, something someone would have picked up already. The Hokage probably already knows he's practising it freely, but since it doesn't violate the treaty, there's no need to stop him. Hell, that's probably why his orphanage has tripled in the past five years. Just throw the maladjusted orphans at the man that can brainwash them into happy, healthy Konoha citizens."

"Okay, as a Yamanaka, I'm going to have to stop you right there and tell you that is the most factually incorrect swill that was ever spilled over the village's rumour mill. All that Genjutsu does is _change your mood_. It was banned because it's almost undetectable in comparison to standard illusions and can be used to rapidly increase the speed of conditioning. You _moron_. Anyway, why does it matter that he can make his kids feel better?"

"Because 'Natsume' is under the influence of a mind-wiping jutsu that no one has any record of with no contextual sense of the world around them, and appeared quite randomly in the the forests outside Konoha. Because 'Natsume' has an incredibly high level of intelligence for their age and exhibits a very unique concept of how to use chakra. Because 'Natsume' is currently _incredibly_ loyal to the only Reformer without limitations or a paper trail in Konoha; a Reformer who is already famous for being a wee bit _absolutely insane_ once children are involved, need I remind you? And finally, because 'Natsume' has _just befriended the Nine-Tails Jinchuuriki_."

Hiori is struck dumb for a few moments, forced into a cold, disbelieving silence. It takes her a little struggling to digest and get her words back. "That...You mean, Wakahisa and Natsume aren't the threat."

"No, no they are not," Kiyomori wheezes. "Literally _any threat to Konoha who knows about the two_ are. And we have no idea just how many people know about the two. We have no idea who will know about the two in the future, either."

Hiori slams her hand on her desk."Okay. You're right. We need to talk to the Hokage."

* * *

><p><em>AN: I think I'll be splitting this fic into three major time periods - pre-Academy, ninja-in-training, and Shippuden. Pre-Academy is going to be Alex making waves, ninja-in-training will be them riding them, and Shippuden...<strong>well<strong>._

_Also, 50,000 words GET! We are now the size of the smallest viable novel! [pops champagne] Remember, the character poll is still on the profile! Alex is currently winning out, somewhat predictably._

_EDIT: WOW, I was more drowsy than I thought. Went through this chapter and edited to high hell, should be less offensive to the very concept of grammar now. That's what I get for not having a beta._


	14. Forward Motion

**Chapter 14: Forward Motion**

* * *

><p>That night, I decide Sasuke isn't worth waiting for. I don't need to ask his permission. There is nothing stopping me from just breaking into his house and planting the coin. I had originally stamped them as a way to spend a lot of time with Sasuke while avoiding scrutiny from anyone who might be watching him, but my new plan is more on the '<em>oh my god I am going to diiiieee<em>' side of things now. Contingency plan. They can't interrogate and probably torture _what they can't catch_.

On the other hand, the deeply ingrained subconscious fear of the HDC is still a bit of a setback. I don't know what their angle is, or what the risks are with going along with it, but everything about these guys is insanely creepy and foreboding. But the HDC's disturbing amount of power and lack of empathy is about roughly equal to Hayashi - the guy who knows about my two faces, _and_ my intelligence level,_ and_ my bad habit of 'diabolically' plotting out how to save Konoha from the burning snake hell that awaits it - giving me the hairy eyeball.

Worst case scenario with HDC? I don't know, maybe they smite me. I wouldn't be able to do much against that, to be honest.

Worst case scenario with Hayashi? I get tortured. Brutally. And they find out about my half-memories and spend years extracting them all and I am going to be locked in a damp cellar spouting off the hair colours of all the Akatsuki members while they go fight evil ninjas. Somehow, despite not being death, this scares me a lot more than some vague godlike organization who gave me cool powers.

I take a deep breath and rub my coins between my fingers. Paranoia won't help. Paranoia never helps. A hairy eyeball does not mean all trust has been violated. Maybe he's just...doing...something else? Unrelated to me? Maybe I'm getting worked up for nothing and there is no reason to be such a blubbering baby. _As usual_.

I shake myself out of my nervous theories and try to focus on my main objective; planting the Walkway. To do that, I probably need to plant Security Station first, so the Walkway has somewhere to Walk to.

I throw the covers from my head and examine the room. Everyone is fast asleep (except Yaruhiko, who is totally ignoring me anyway). I crawl over to my cubbyhole, and shuffle inside. A quick peek over my shoulder confirms I'm out of sight from both the door and Yaruhiko. Excellent.

I stick Security Station onto the wall of the little wooden compartment. It holds easily. I take a deep breath and shove my hand against it forcefully, and it (thankfully) caves in to reveal a small hole. Easy portal, just add a good smack.

Again, fear of the HDC creeps up on me. I almost expect a demon to headbutt me and thank me for releasing him from his eternal prison before laying waste to this world, but the portal just kinda sits there, open, and portal-y. I focus some chakra into my finger, trying to make it a visible light, but to no avail. Guess I'll have to just crawl into this foreboding shadow.

I stick my hand in, and it feels a little weird around the edges, but the palm reaches into a cool and dry area that must be the room I want. Okay. This is...safe, almost. My arm hasn't been chopped off. Move, body, _move_.

I plunge headfirst into the shadow portal.

...And come out the other side, completely unscathed, into a white room with white walls.

Holy shit, I am _so glad_ that worked.

I stand on unsteady legs and look at my new pocket dimension, wary of any shadowy arms that might pop out and break my neck for the glory of the Hot Dog Caravan or whatever the hell HDC stands for.

Nothing.

I let out a trembling breath and actually examine the room in detail. The floors, ceiling and walls are all made up of the same white porcelain-like squares, and there's a white circular armchair sitting in front of a series of television screens. It is the most super-villain thing I've ever seen, and I love it immediately. Behind me, there's a little doorframe around the crawlspace portal. Huh. Wonder if it stretches to match the portal size?

I approach the monitor screens and examine my setup. Of the ten screens, only one of them is lit, and it depicts the outside of my cubbyhole. Below the screens is a little table featuring a series of little buttons and switches, most notable being the big red button, the flat little glass circle, and the small lever. I touch the circle, and the camera on the screen immediately snaps to look at the sleeping kids. Okay, so this wheel is my camera angle. I guess the lever is my zoom.

Naturally, I just smack that big red button. It does not appear to be indicative of any function other than 'please smack me'.

A screen pops up in front of me, not unlike the character model screen I used to make my 'Natsume' face. It's a picture of a small white room, with two lists next to it. 'White Lab Floors' and 'White Lab Walls' are selected on the lists. Curious, I select 'Nightlights' on the second list.

The wells become a beautiful, detailed night sky.

Oh, alright, so that's my customize button. Neato.

I slide through my options for floors until I finally decide on 'soft grass', which also turns my round white chair into a round white tree stump and the borders around the portal into a twisting circle of bushes.

I shuffle up to the edge of the grassy floor and grasp out. I don't feel any walls there. I try to test the boundaries with my foot too, but there seems to be some sort of centre of gravity that holds me too firmly to let me reach out very far. The looming angle lets me see that the starry 'walls' continue on underneath the edge of my grass floor, stretching out indefinitely under my hanging foot and the boundaries of the room. I feel like I'm playing Super Mario Galaxy combined with my worst nightmare.

"Okay that's..." I try to think of a way to compliment this monstrosity.

I instead dive into the shrubbery portal and out into my cubbyhole.

That was freaky, scary, absolutely crazy terrifying bullshit. I haven't been this scared since I met Tomoya. I'm definitely changing the walls the next time I go in there. Which is not now. I mean, I played with it enough. Cool gravity and camera controls. What more could I possibly investigate?

Ha_haaaa. _

I slide out of the cubbyhole and look around. Yaruhiko has put his book away, but I don't know if he's asleep now. I still go through the motions of hiding under my blankets and waiting for the coast to clear. My heart is still slamming against my ribcage from a combination of nerves and mild horror, and I feel should calm down a little before going an expedition across the village, lest my heart gives out entirely.

Eventually, I figure everyone is _definitely_ asleep, and climb back out again. I quickly form the handsigns for Ghost and gravity becomes a mere suggestion as the effect comes over me. I would really enjoy a theoretical world where Ghost and Sub-Modelling were the only abilities I had to think about. I can trust those. (Sort of.) The sub-dimensions are just...creepy. Space-time-y. Not really into that.

I Spike and use my chakra to propel me through the roof of the orphanage, and use it again to fling myself across countless buildings. When I see the Uchiha Compound, I have the presence of mind to actually start clinging to the ground with my energy, slowing me to an easy stop. I really need to practice more with this dumb coin.

Once I'm satisfied with my distance from both the ground and the compound, I drop Ghost and land on the roof of an Uchiha house I don't particularly recognize. Should I just slap the coin here and be done with it?

Eh. Should probably be inside an Uchiha building. Preferably still Sasuke's, if I can find it.

I look around for an important-looking house, and catch a much more spread-out one from my new vantage point. I use Ghost to fly over that-a-ways and straight through the walls. I can probably stick the coin in a linen closet, if I got the right place. Technically, the plan is just 'make a shortcut to Sasuke to avoid the police and guards', so there's no need to place it anywhere alarming.

I look through the house. Seems expensive enough. I drop Ghost because I keep clipping through the walls, and walk quietly through the hardwood hallways of the house. They're very dark and spooky, but I am at least adult enough to not be bothered by that. Much.

There's a pretty notable pair of sliding doors in one of the bigger halls. I hesitate before slowly, carefully, pulling it open.

Two chalk outlines on the ground, drawn over stains of blood so dark I can see them even in the unlit shadows.

I immediately slam the door closed again and back into the wall, feeling the return of fear and bile and existential terror. It's easy to ignore the massive collection of dead people until you see actual evidence that people have died, that blood was spilled, and people who were talking and arguing and doing things only a few days before had been murdered.

Last week, all these people were alive.

"_Oh god_," I groan, swallowing a wave of nausea. I force my brain to think in hard facts - this is probably Sasuke's house. Just place the coin and go back to bed.

I fumble with the warm metal I had been gripping since I called it out back at the orphanage and haphazardly slap it onto the corner of the hallway on my way out. It sticks. I run.

Think narrow. Sasuke is alive. Sasuke needs help. The Wakahisa clan is alive. This is all so I can keep them that way. This is part of the grand plot. There was nothing I could do without my fully-formed memories, anyway.

Think narrow.

_I need to use as many people as I can. No one else dies, from now on. Forget about the Uchiha clan. They don't mean anything, not anymore._

I'm sure if I keep saying it, I'll start believing it.

* * *

><p><strong>Hayashi Kiyomori<strong>

* * *

><p>"I trust you all have a basic understanding of why you're here?"<p>

Kiyomori glances around. There are only six people in the Hokage's office right now, including the Hokage himself. He expected Ryouji and Hiori, as they're his old teammates and he explained his theory to them, but the other two people he hadn't expected; Wakahisa Yukie and Yorukawa Mirune. While they were present during the Incident, Mirune was a four-year-old blind girl, and Yukie was five months old. Hell, Mirune is _still_ a blind girl, and it could be argued that Yukie has the class and decorum of a babbling infant.

"Nah," says Yukie, strikingly disinterested in being called in for a private meeting with the leader of their village.

Case in point.

"All of you were present during the incident thirteen years ago, involving one Wakahisa Tomoya," the Hokage says carefully, which instantly catches Yukie's attention. "And all of you agree that his actions during that mission were a result of Konohagakure mishandling his mental health."

"There were twenty people coming out of that mission. Are you saying the _baby_ has more respect for a mentally ill twelve-year-old than the _grown adults_ who would have actual first-hand experience with traumatized youth?" Ryouji argues.

"You didn't see what he did," Mirune says quietly.

"Neither did you! You're _blind_!"

Mirune turns her head to him. Her eyes are covered by bandages, but Kiyomori has no doubt that if they were uncovered, she would be fixing him with a very unimpressed look.

He hasn't actually seen Mirune in a few years. It was easy to get close to Yukie, because Yukie had no memory of the incident and wouldn't pin him to the wall with pointed questions. On the other hand, while she's basically a normal teenage girl in any other sense, Mirune has a way with making observations about things no one likes to talk about. A very 'to the point' type of person.

She's taken on a more authoritative look since he last saw her. For example, wearing eye bandages instead of those little round shades. She's also taken to wearing some of her raven-coloured hair up into a stylized bun, while the rest hangs down to her shoulder blades. She's still wearing that Chuunin vest, which is, quite frighteningly, in flawless condition. He won't even entertain the possibility that she had it replaced. He knows that is the exact same vest she received when she made Chuunin six years ago.

Apparently she made Special Jounin only a year afterwards. Honestly not surprising. Everyone close to Tomoya seems to spontaneously evolve into an insufferable genius.

Wait, that's actually very weird. Why didn't he realize how weird that is?

"Those involved in the war had become used to trauma always having a cure," The Hokage says, breaking Kiyomori's train of thought. "The prevalence of the Reformation Unit and Tsunade's Medical Division had spoiled their sense of gravity when it comes to mental illness."

"Reformation Unit?" Yukie repeats, looking at the adults in the room questioningly. "Wait, so you all know what happened to Tomo-chan, beginning to end?"

"Tomoya was a member of the Reformation unit, and," Mirune starts, but she pauses to glance at the Hokage. "This is A-rank information. Permission to debrief him?"

"Permission granted. I have been told he is more likely to keep quiet if he understands what is at stake," the Hokage muses. If Yukie notices the subtle insult, he doesn't show it.

Mirune turns to Yukie and gives Hiori a small nod to indicate she should help in the debrief. "The Reformer Unit is a combination of resources from Torture And Interrogation and the Medical Division, both specifically in relation to mind-related Jutsu. You're familiar with the Mystic Palm Technique and the Heart Cleansing Technique?"

"They're healing techniques for the body and the mind, respectively," Yukie says.

"These techniques were observed and re-purposed into a rare and largely unknown Genjutsu called the Heaven's Aura Technique. It's virtually undetectable, but its only purpose is to subtly change the mood of the target. At the beginning of the war, it was exclusively used to treat the mentally unstable, but as resources became spread too thin, recovery time needed to be cut in half. It takes approximately two months to treat PTSD. They wanted it to be done in under three days.

The Reformation Unit was formed to create a temporary treatment that can last until the patient has the time for long-term treatment, by combining Heart Cleansing, Heaven's Aura, and psychological manipulation for the patient's benefit. Eventually, it was taken over as a section of T&I, which used it as a way to take impressionable enemy ninja and turn them against their own village. This process was only introduced in the final year of the war, but it's what it's best remembered for, and the reason it was disbanded after the war ended.

When it was disbanded, there were only eight members remaining. Tomoya is not counted amongst them, though he was the most outstanding member of the unit."

"What - _eight_? Why?" Yukie balks.

Hiori jumps in at Mirune's indication. "If one were to rank Jutsu by difficulty, Mystic Palm would be at the bottom, Heart cleansing in the middle, and Heaven's Aura at the far, far top. There were only nine members in that Unit because there were only nine people who had that level of control."

"Wakahisa Tomoya is what many might call a..." Mirune purses her lips in thought.

"A disgusting, insufferable genius," Kiyomori suggests.

"Yes. That."

"Actually," Hiori continues, "There are about twenty known users of the technique, twenty-one if you add Tomoya. Based on the information we have, Tomoya is the second-most powerful user of the technique. The most powerful user of the technique is the woman who taught it to him to begin with. If I remember correctly, he was so obsessed with learning it properly that he flunked out of the Academy and took on early apprenticeship with the Reformation Unit in order to master it. It's widely considered his savant skill."

"Wait..." Yukie glances between them. "You keep separating Tomoya from the rest. Why?"

"He quit before the Reformation Unit disbanded. Since he had his Ninja Identification Number revoked, he managed to escape through a loophole. Konoha has stripped him from the record. We can't use him unless another Shinobi war breaks out, but no one else can touch him either."

"Nowadays he just makes children feel better about themselves, which is the best possible conclusion," Kiyomori says.

Yukie is tense for a moment, and after careful consideration, he looks at the Hokage with much more composure. "Tomo-chan isn't in trouble, though, right?"

"No. In fact, I'm wondering if this mission should be a C-rank or a B-rank," the Hokage chuckles. "I merely want you five to maintain a close social relationship with him to confirm that everything as it should be."

"Why?"

Kiyomori quirks his head. "Imagine if someone wanted Tomoya to do something he disagrees with. How would they succeed?"

"They wouldn't?" Yukie gives him a questioning look. "If his life his threatened, he'll kill himself right off the bat. If the orphanage is threatened, the first thing he'll do is eradicate the threat. Same if both were threatened. He doesn't really make concessions. Man, he was in the _war_. _Thick_ in it. Like, in half the troop missions thick, even _before_ passing the bar."

"Okay, good, you get it. Now imagine the same scenario, but one of his orphans is agreeing with this person from the bottom of their heart, and doing their best to complete this objective on their own. What then?"

Yukie freezes.

"Oh, _shit_."

"The more capable this theoretical orphan is as a ninja, the more broken the scenario becomes," Ryouji recalls from what Kiyomori had told him. "If the orphan is at a genius level, it becomes an unwinnable situation. The orphan becomes an absolute force, and there's no way Tomoya would abandon one of his flock. The objective would be completed either way, and if Tomoya's paranoia cropped up again, he might even push himself into a delusional state to justify the situation."

Yukie chokes. "That's messed up. Could someone do that?"

"Well, at least three Wakahisa kids are going through the Academy, which means it's easier to track him. Hence, concern." Kiyomori shrugs. "If someone is interested in a genius, and traces it back to Tomoya...he was an incredibly influential figure in the war. It won't be hard to put a name to a face. Both his skill and lack of mental stability aren't exactly S-rank secrets. His Secret Technique is only a B-rank secret, even."

"So...basically, our mission is to chase off anyone interested in baiting Tomo-chan and the kids," Yukie concludes.

Mirune perks up. "Who are we worried about amongst the orphans?"

Kiyomori steps up to the Hokage's desk and takes one of the folders. He opens it and begins flipping through, listing names. "Wakahisa Yukie. You. Horrible Bloodlimit no one cares about, but dual elemental affinities, which is _actually_ useful. The most loyal to Tomoya. Please don't follow strangers home."

Yukie scowls.

"Wakahisa Toro. No notable skills, but a bit easy to manipulate, and taking my apprenticeship program with incredible vigour. Would probably eat live snails if someone told him it would make him better at being a ninja. Has started getting chummy with Uzumaki Naruto, so that raises more than a few alarms."

The Hokage's eyes go wide. Yes, he did, in fact, forget to mention that when rushing through his theory with him. Whoops.

"Er...Wakahisa Yaruhiko. Probably the most disagreeable out of the lot. Not interested in ninja, but I have it on good authority he's not too excited about Konoha as a whole. No idea why, kid never talks. Has a pointed interest in the medical arts."

"Have you been _staking out the orphanage_?" Mirune says in sudden realization.

"AHEM. Magara Kumoki. Originally from the Land of Grass. Apparently has some sort of concerning Bloodlimit, but it's been successfully sealed when he first arrived in Konoha. Has some sort of phobia because of it, hence the suit. Incredibly obedient, a likely target."

"Why did you stake out the orphanage while avoiding Tomoya? _How?_"

"AHEHEHEM. Most recently, Wakahisa Natsume, who automatically lands a spot just by being hit by an unknown memory-related jutsu. Another problem is that they are incredibly intelligent, and they have an advanced understanding of very minimal information. Intellectually a genius, though a bit lacking in skill. Friends with Toro, so also bound to get a little chummy with Naruto."

And in possession of strange coin-shaped seals that change their body, but he's not going to share that particular bit of information. For one, they'd steal those coins in a heartbeat, making it an absolutely intentional betrayal. For another, Natsume is clearly smart enough to use them with some intelligence. Well, use them with some intelligence at least five years from now. Natsume is only seven right now. Seven-year-olds are bound to do stupid shit, like drop-kick their orphan-siblings. It's in their DNA, or something.

Mirune stares sightlessly at him while he ponders. Right, she's still on about his uncanny knowledge of these orphans.

Kiyomori licks his lips nervously, not exactly comfortable with admitting he had been casually stalking Wakahisa children for years in front of the Hokage. Yukie snorts into the back of his hand, and Kiyomori vows to grind his face in the dirt for being a smarmy little turd.

He manages to comes up with a final save, though. "Mirune! You're in the Sensor Unit, yes? Why don't you take a look at Natsume? They're doing something weird with their chakra, and I have no idea how to teach them when the time comes. Great idea, right? There's your close social roll!"

"I'm already friends with Tomoya. You know this." She folds her arms and pouts at him. "I'll drop by, though. _For the mission_."

"Right. Now the last possible link to Tomoya..." Kiyomori looks at the nearly-blank sheet of paper with a grimace. "...E-2980."

Yukie, who was listening diligently now, immediately grabs Kiyomori's arm and attempts to read the file over his shoulder. "The hell is that? A robot?"

The Hokage takes a long pull from his pipe, and lets it all out with a tired, forlorn sigh and a swirling current of smoke. It isn't until it disperses that he speaks.

"E-2980 is Tomoya's son."

* * *

><p><em>AN: WOW, THINGS ARE HAPPENING AGAIN<em>

_I always thought it was weird that everyone is so cheerful about the child soldier thing. Probable reason: they have a way to literally cure trauma._

_Anyway, exposition drop. About a lot of things. The world does not revolve around Alex, and a lot of the people they involve themselves with have their own issues, almost all of them surrounding Tomoya. Since all of them have some sort of link to Tomoya, naturally I should use Tomoya to bring them into the re-occurring cast! Also introducing Mirune, who is the friend Yukie mentioned in Chapter 12, and an (extremely vague) explanation on what the hell is up with Kumoki. _

_BTW, feel free to borrow the Reformation Unit concept for your own fic, if you want. Basically, 1-2 members were sent on troop (multi-team) missions to keep everyone stable and high-performance during large battles, and the captured enemy ninja were sent back home to T&I to be 'reformed' in the more menacing sense. Tomoya, as the most skilled, was almost always back home in Konoha for his first year, and on the battlefield for his second._

_EDIT: Updated my profile with an age timeline for Tomoya. He changes a LOT over the years, and I thought a visual guide might help._


	15. The Hope Of Boxed Children

There are seven employees at the Wakahisa orphanage, five of them caretakers. The other two are the receptionist who named me, who seems to be in the belief that children are incapable of wrongdoing and never seems to be around, and the landscaper, who comes twice a month to replant the grass and tend to the trees (though he had to come early this month to take care of the wall I annihilated.)

The first of the caretakers is, obviously, Tomoya, who is the only live-in on the staff and works here every day, 24/7. I'm beginning to suspect he can do this because he actually_ owns_ the orphanage, and probably the property. Tomoya doesn't strike me as an authoritative owner-of-things, but it's the only logical explanation of his work hours barring a bizarre branch of orphan-based nepotism. (Though it has been subtly implied that he has been at this orphanage for his entire life. Perhaps a combination of both?)

The second is Michiyo, who works every day for a 12-hour shift. She's a middle-aged woman with dark hair usually in a loose ponytail, with a body built like a thin steel rod. I spent more time than I'd like to admit trying very hard not to think of why she feels the need to build her muscles when she works full-time at an orphanage, but based on the way she talks to people of dubious respectability, I can make a few guesses. As furious as she is with outsiders, she's completely sweet on the kids, even the real assholes. Like Hiriki, who is still avoiding me, because I instilled the fear of god into him, and by god I mean _me_.

The third is Nami, a part-timer who works 10-to-6 five days a week. She has her dark brown hair cut short to avoid grubby little hands from yanking on it (the fact no one pulls that kind of thing with Michiyo is a source of ire for her), and she's studying higher education in civilian fields. There's not a lot of education options in Konoha for civilians, which genuinely reeks of 'If you're going to be smart you best be doing it dying for your village', but she does her best. Sometimes she dispenses random facts she's learned while studying to the kids she's looking after, so she's the prime source of information on topics like 'why is the sky blue' and 'where do babies come from', as far as the kids are concerned.

The fourth and fifth are high-turnover positions, always transient. They are currently Some Jackass Who Honest-To-God Does Not Know How To Repair The Paper On A Door and Old Woman Who Is Infuriated By The Concept Of Babies.

The sixth is Yukie.

"What the hell," I say.

"Hello to you too," says Yukie.

It's mid-morning and I had expected to be partaking in shenanigans with my age group, maybe commit another round of crimes to cement my reputation, but halfway through a game of ninja tag (like tag, except the person who's It is permitted to piledrive their targets) I spot the very conspicuous form of Yukie, headband-less and in full caretaker uniform.

"No, really," I gesture to his apron, complete with Wakahisa clan symbol embroidered over the chest, "What the_ hell_. Aren't you a ninja?"

"I'm also a recent child of the care of this great and splendid orphanage, and you would not _believe_ how boring it is standing by that wall, I _swear_," Yukie gravely intones.

"When did you get hired?"

"I haven't been. The apron and my willingness to please is my resume. TOMO-CHAN!" He yells over my head, waving wildly to a passing Tomoya.

Sometimes, I am wary of the possibility of Hayashi and Yukie being literally the same person.

Tomoya stops at the call, and gives Yukie a clear once-over. His mouth pinches into a thin, polite slash of a smile. Yukie bounces on his heels and gives him an eager grin, like he's expecting Tomoya to be falling over himself in glee at Yukie's gracious offer.

"I...I'm sorry," Tomoya says carefully, "I thought you were a shinobi?"

I snort.

"We're not on missions _all the time_, and the long-standing mission guarding this place is soooo dull. I'd rather be _actually working_. I mean, it's a D-class, I know I shouldn't be expecting action, but _snooooore_," Yukie drawls.

"Well...you _are_ quite familiar with the place, and the children _do_ recognize you..." Tomoya ponders aloud.

"So I get the job?" Yukie asks excitedly.

I glance at Tomoya. "Wait, you _do_ own this place?"

"Yes, and yes. And shouldn't you be in the classroom?" Tomoya asks me with a narrowed glance.

I shrug. "I generally don't take any of the classes except history, as a rule of thumb. Too easy."

"What - what have you been doing for the past month, then?"

"Making use of the classroom's tables and ample supply of blank paper and scrolls?" I giggle nervously.

Tomoya sighs and shoos me away. "Oh, _off with you._"

I laugh and take off. Seeing as Toro actually needs those lessons, he is forced to spend three hours minimum on his studies, which means Hayashi won't come until later in the day. I'm guessing Yuria has a somewhat similar schedule, since Hayashi hadn't said anything when he dropped her off. Fortunately, I am not bound by such arbitrary limitations of things like 'basic education'. I can add and subtract just fine, _thanks. _

As I dart away from Tomoya and Yukie's conversation, I see Yaruhiko's small form curled up in the crook of the tree hanging over the wall I made stone dust out of. He also appears to be out cold, which is kind of surprising; I've only ever seen him reading or fooling around with Toro.

I pad up to the tree and test my foot on the bark. Not rough enough to climb up that high. How the hell did he get up there?

"Hey buddy," I call up to him. At first he doesn't stir, but when I kick the tree, he opens one eye.

"What."

"You skipping class too?"

He opens his other eye. "I'm ahead on education. I just take Geography, now."

"My class is History. Amnesia and all." I point at my head and flash him a grin. "I know enough about tectonic plates."

"I got the feeling you were just in the class to get at a map," Yaruhiko says. So, he's been watching me. Not surprising; when your presence is low enough, people-watching becomes a primary trait.

"What kind of books do you read, anyway?" I stand on my tippy-toes, hoping to get a glance of a book. Sure enough, one is tucked between his legs. He rolls his eyes and opens it, but I can't see a cover from my position.

"They're medical journals. I want to be a doctor, so I need to do a lot of research." He helpfully flips a few pages and presents a diagram of the human body, complete with footnotes and zoom-in illustrations. That...honestly was not what I was expecting. I mean, I didn't think he was reading the Japanese Ninja equivalent of Charles Dickens, but seriously? He casually reads_ medical texts_? I can barely dedicate an hour at a time to my psychology textbooks before getting bored and running off to do something else.

"Neat," I say.

The grumpy no-ninjas-allowed attitude he put on before rubbed me the wrong way, but if he has his own dreams, then good for him.

Yaruhiko tilts his head towards Yukie and Tomoya. "What's with him?"

"He wants to work here on his off days, for boredom reasons," I say. I attempt to scramble up the tree again, but to no avail. Seriously, is there some sort of trade secret to tree-climbing I am not privvy to? Besides the obvious ninja way, I mean.

"What the heck," he snorts. Then his eyes travel across the yard, and the tilted smirk falls from his face.

I follow his gaze. Hayashi's outpost friend/might-be-teammate - Ryouji, I remind myself - is standing impassively at the gate, eyes flicking quickly across the faces of the children running across the lawn. Then his gaze snaps to me. Surprisingly, he does not growl in disgust. Even as he approaches, he seems perfectly calm and relaxed. From a closer view, I can see that not only is he not wearing his headband, but his long-sleeve shirt is now imprinted with the _Uchiha fan_.

I narrow my eyes at it and glance to his face suspiciously.

"That's the symbol of the police force," Ryouji says. "Most low-ranked shinobi were filed into the police force after the massacre. We're still organizing it as a career path for the Genin Corps to access, but in the meantime, we have to pick up the slack."

"Embracing it, I see," I comment lightly.

He scowls. "I like quiet. The police department is quiet. I like the police department."

"Entertaining a career change?"

"Are you trying to banter with me? Do you banter with _Kiyo_?"Ah, there's the disgust. It looks so natural on his face.

"I'm having a conversation. That's what normal people do._ Converse_. I can't help my razor wit."

"They were right about you," he sighs, but doesn't elaborate. Jerk.

"You're Hayashi's friend, right?"

"_Teammate,_" he corrects with viciousness that makes me choke back a laugh.

"I dunno, he seems to like you a lot-"

"It's not mutual."

"-And him and Yamanaka-san are pretty chummy about you-"

"They're vile. Don't trust them."

"-And you willingly speak to him on multiple occasions without yelling-"

"Why am I arguing this point with you? He's a coworker. We've been working together since we were ten. I built up a tolerance. Much like I am preparing to build up a tolerance to _you_."

"And you call him 'Kiyo' unironically."

He stops dead.

And then his face goes_ brick red_.

Without preamble or any attempt to save face, he turns on his heel and speedwalks towards Tomoya, ignoring my screams of amazed laughter. How does he even _manage_ to build up an argument and not notice his own cutesy nicknames? _I love humanity_.

Once I manage to control my broken screeches, I re-address the subject of getting on Yaruhiko's level. While the rafters were obvious (the bookcase), I really have no idea what he did to get that high. He's considerably shorter than me, too. Damn seven-year-olds and their pre-programmed superhuman climbing abilities.

I give up climbing the tree normally and use my chakra to leap up, wreaking havoc on my bruises but managing to get a better vantage point to watch the adults talk. From a higher position, I can see Ryouji's head is turned to Yukie, who is fixing him with a disbelieving look. Then Ryouji says something to Tomoya, who smiles shyly and glances over the yard.

"He's up to something," Yaruhiko hisses above me.

"Whatever it is, he's not doing it very well~" I trill.

Tomoya looks to where I had just been standing, then up the tree. His held tilts up to indicate that he's looking at Yaruhiko, not me. Said child slides down from his perch and drops easily onto the ground, as if beckoned.

The small seven-year-old strolls casually across the yard, with one hand in his pocket and the other gripping his medical journal. He stop in front of the group of adults and waits for one to talk. Tomoya tells him something, and Yaruhiko immediately reacts with a negative response. Tomoya takes a step forward, and Yaruhiko doesn't move, but he shakes his head. Ryouji holds up his hands placatingly, and Yaruhiko takes a step back from _him_, causing Yukie to whap Ryouji over the head.

I move to join them, but then Ryouji grabs Yaruhiko's arm, and Yaruhiko turns, and before I can even register it, the kid's fist is connecting bodily with Ryouji's stomach and sending him skidding back a half-step.

Okay, not what I expected out of that conversation.

Yaruhiko takes off across the yard, but Ryouji recovers in a split-second and jumps after him. Yaruhiko can barely resist him as his arms are grasped and pulled into a pin on the ground. It's a very delicate move, but still enough incentive to get in there.

"What do you think you're doing!?" I yell at Ryouji.

"He needs to learn a little responsibility-" Ryouji grunts.

"_He's trying to adopt me!_" Yaruhiko screams over him, and hisses as his arm is twisted a bit further. "He's going to_ indoctrinate_ me!"

I honestly kinda doubt that, but Ryouji - who is a _full-grown man_ - is currently pinning a very small seven-year-old to the ground, so I don't think that matters much. I pump chakra into my legs and tackle Ryouji to the ground, freeing Yaruhiko and earning a few alarmed screams from the kids around us.

"You- Stop!" Ryouji seethes.

"Stop _assaulting minors_!" I spit back.

Ryouji flings me off him, and I hit the wall with a grunt, and then a gasping wince of pain as my bruises complain at the jostling.

"Please stop!" Tomoya begs, trying to keep Ryouji back from Yaruhiko, who is hiding behind Yukie. "If he doesn't want to be adopted, then I can't-"

"I'm not going to make him be a damn ninja! I just want to look after him! If he'd just sit down and talk-" Ryouji marches forcefully past Tomoya. I move to stop him, but the internal bleeding puts a cramp in that. I let out a small gasp as the movement sends a fresh shockwave of pain through my muscles. God damn, do I ever need a doctor. Baths by myself and tender movements aren't cutting it any more.

"I don't need to talk to you! I don't _want_ to!" Yaruhiko takes a step back, and Ryouji darts forward with a ninja's strength. Yukie automatically dodges out of the way, leaving Yaruhiko wide open. I open my mouth to shout in alarm, Yaruhiko is backed into the wall-

And then he's not.

I blink. Ryouji freezes. Yukie looks around. Tomoya looks quietly furious.

Yaruhiko explodes out of the bushes.

I can barely comprehend what's happening, because Yaruhiko is like a demon unleashed, taking Ryouji into a chokehold and clinging to his shoulders like he's going for gold in a bull-riding competition. Ryouji attempts to yank him off, but Yaruhiko kicks the hand away and digs his teeth into Ryouji's neck. Ryouji yells out in alarm, then in pain, and I can clearly see a little bit of red around Yaruhiko's mouth.

"You shitty-" Ryouji grabs Yaruhiko by the ankles this time, and without any way of defending himself, he's powerless to stop Ryouji from dragging him from his neck and swinging him across the yard. More children scream in alarm.

Yaruhiko slowly gets to his feet and spits out a mouthful of blood. His eyes are cold, hard, _furious_.

"Who trained you?" Ryouji hisses. His hand is clenched to his neck. There's blood seeping from between his fingers.

"I'm not going to tell a Konoha _dog_ that," Yaruhiko snarls back.

"Well, they weren't wrong about you, either." Ryouji juts his chin out at his under-aged audience. "Go on inside, get! This boy's being a bad influence."

"You attacked me first!" Yaruhiko yells.

"I attempted to_ detain you_ first." He rolls his neck and puts his foot forward in preparation, seemingly waiting for all the children to skedaddle back inside. The fact he doesn't want young witnesses is immediately off-putting to me.

I try to run to stop him, but the bruises complain again, and I hit the ground before I'm even halfway there. I can't concentrate enough to mold my chakra. Yukie jumps to help me, and when I glance up, I can see Tomoya standing ramrod straight, fists clenched so hard they're white.

Ryouji leaps forward. Yaruhiko angles his body back.

Yaruhiko's fist flies faster than I can catch it, and Ryouji dodges and attempts to go for the back Yaruhiko's knees - but Yaruhiko's head traces the movement of Ryouji's hips and he uses the still-extended arm of the failed punch to hoist himself up out of reach of Ryouji's leg. Ryouji's other hand grabs his ankle, and Yaruhiko uses that new support to put all of his weight into kicking Ryouji square in the face with a furious, bloodthirsty cry.

Ryouji drops him and stumbles back. Yaruhiko digs his bare toes into Ryouji's shirt and kicks off him into the air, giving him time to raise his leg and bring it down like an axe over Ryouji's head. Ryouji dodges, catches the leg, and holds an arm out to catch an expected repeat of Yaruhiko's previous attack, but Yaruhiko surprises him by letting himself drop upside-down and _punching him in the balls_.

Yukie lets out a low whistle.

Ryouji lets out a string of curse words and eats dirt. Yaruhiko jumps back from him and stands up straight. He closes his eyes tightly, bows his head in concentration, pulls his mouth into a grimace...

And a soft blue glow arises from his hands.

"Is he using _chakra_?" I boggle. "_I_ can't even use chakra!"

Ryouji seems equally disbelieving. "Who the hell trained you?"

"Say you'll go away," Yaruhiko tells him, and the chakra starts getting longer and more intense along his palm. "I don't want to be adopted, so say you'll go away."

"To hell with that!" Ryouji yells, and charges at him. Yaruhiko's arms tighten, and the chakra explodes with intense vibrancy, culminating in a thin line. Ryouji's eyes widen, and he pauses in his advancement, but not before Yaruhiko brings his hand across Ryouji's defending arm.

The fabric rips.

Ryouji backs off, looks at his torn shirt, and then back at Yaruhiko. "Oh, _no._"

"I have the skill to defend myself, so-"

"There's only one person stupid enough to teach a seven-year-old how to use _chakra scalpels_ as a weapon."

"They're too fine for weapons," Yukie whispers helpfully to me. "You'd need an inhuman amount of concentration and control to keep them stable enough for more than just kitten scratches."

Yaruhiko's cheeks tinge with pink. "I'm not trying to _disembowel_ you, I'm trying to get you to screw off! How many times do I have to-"

"New plan, kid. Tell me about your little 'tutor'." Ryouji shoots forward again, and Yaruhiko reacts by bringing his shimmering line (chakra scalpel?) down onto Ryouji's extended arm, but Ryouji retaliates by smacking Yaruhiko straight across his face with his other hand and taking advantage of the shock to successfully kick out his knees. Yaruhiko lets out a startled cry at the loss of balance.

I sense movement at the corner of my eye.

Ryouji brings his fist down.

There's a flare of chakra, and a kunai lands with a small thunk between Ryouji's feet and Yaruhiko's knees. Ryouji only has enough time to look at the source before the chakra reaches its crescendo.

Tomoya forms three hand signs, forces his foot forward with enough force to push up a small pile of dirt, and grits his teeth.

His eyes are blazing with a hateful rage that I've never seen before.

**"_HAKOIRI-KO NO JUTSU_!" **

The kunai explodes with light, and with a huge _surge_ of chakra that shakes me to the bone, Yaruhiko and Ryouji are suddenly separated by two pulsating spheres of blazing luminescence. Ryouji trips into the wall of his, but it holds him like a solid surface. Yaruhiko looks dazed at the glowing surface of the jutsu, then at Tomoya. He looks torn between relief and childish disgruntlement at having his fight interrupted.

"_Tomo-chan!_" Yukie yells in warning.

Tomoya ignores him completely. He marches up to the two, blind to what's happening around him. His posture is tense, rigid, full of emotion, and I suddenly feel very, very scared. Tomoya is never mad. Tomoya doesn't _get_ mad.

Ryouji recoils when Tomoya stops in front of his bubble. Tomoya dispels it with a wave, and takes another step so he and Ryouji are only a hand's reach away. Ryouji looks just as scared as I feel. Yaruhiko, sensing Tomoya's quiet seething rage, backs down completely. Yukie's hand is clenched tightly around my arm, irritating the bruises there. I'm too tense to complain.

Ryouji is the first to speak.

"I-"

Tomoya slaps him.

It's not just a slap, either. It's a full, leaning-to-charge, toppling impact, landing so hard that Ryouji's knocked clean over, only managing to stay standing through the instinctive placement of his leg. Tomoya holds his pose there, hand deadly still in the air, even though his breathing is coming out a bit ragged.

"How dare you..." Tomoya breaths. Ryouji looks up at him in irritation, and he opens his mouth to speak, but Tomoya cuts him off. "How _dare you_ march into this orphanage and expect me to just hand over my charges! How dare you _lift your hand to strike one of my children_! How dare you act as if you are owed compliance! You are a guest in this estate, and you would _brawl_ with a _child_ in my company!"

"He's not just a-"

"Not just _what_!?" Tomoya's voice wobbles with the effort of keeping himself from screaming. "I allowed you in here as a member of our village and a prospective parent, and you've done nothing but abuse my hospitality and _assault MY CHILDREN_! _I WILL HAVE NO ARGUEMENT!_"

"I'm not trying to assault-"

"_Then what is THIS?_" Tomoya flings an arm to point at Yaruhiko, who is crouched small and ashamed underneath the protective sphere around him. Ryouji flinches, but doesn't back down.

"I was only-"

"_What is THAT_!?" He turns to point at me. I flinch back, not expecting to be part of this. Ryouji looks at me, and how Yukie is supporting my weight, how obviously hard it is for me to stand. Finally, he seems to understand how overboard he's gone.

"This behaviour...This is unacceptable." Tomoya's voice is shaking full-on, and now that he's turned this way, I can see tears welling up in his eyes. "I don't _ever_ want to see you darken our doors again."

Ryouji looks like he desperately wants to argue his position, but he takes one look at Tomoya's furious expression and bows his head in defeat. "I understand. I apologize for mistreating your charges."

"Then _go_."

Ryouji straightens, bows, and marches off the property.

"Knew he'd screw it up," Yukie snorts.

I don't know what he means. I just know that Tomoya is upset, and Yaruhiko is shrinking into nothing on the ground, and I hurt everywhere.

Then Toro bursts through the door and tumbles out onto the yard.

"IS THERE A _FIGHT_?"

* * *

><p><em>AN: This was written in wee little snippets for the past week and then I got to the Yaruhiko-Ryouji fight scene and I wrote 2000 words in half an hour THE FIRE IS REAL WITHIN ME<em>

_More development for Yaruhiko, Tomoya, the Wakahisa Observation Project, and the new element of a mysterious 'tutor'. I wonder who would, in fact, be stupid enough to tell a seven-year-old that using Chakra Scalpels in battle is a good idea. Certainly not a trained ninja, right? _

_**Hakoiri-ko no Jutsu = Boxed-child technique**. It's an odd way to say it, so I decided to leave it untranslated. The name is somewhat influenced by Kishida Toshiko, a first-wave feminist in Japan who made a speech about the treatment of daughters in higher-class families, called "Daughters in Boxes". A 'boxed daughter' is now a Japanese turn of phrase that means a girl who has been isolated, stripped of agency, and looked after with authority instead of love - a child of absolute separation and isolation. You would probably recognize it easiest from the reference in Tengen Toppa Gurren Lagann, where the Boxed Daughter is literally introduced as a girl in a box._

_Tomoya did not name the Jutsu, but it has a lot of Implications closely related to the meaning of the phrase. :3c_


	16. (-ARC 2-) Skysick Bloodsick

**_2014/12/31 edit -_** _Just went through the fic and_ _added a lot more meat to the story. There's a pattern of poor writing around the beginning - Alex doesn't react to things enough, Alex doesn't give enough commentary, characters are just sort of glossed over, some characters don't act in-character at all, poor word choices, and straight up incorrect information - so I just went through the entire fic and gave it a big ol' layer of subtly applied padding. And spellcheck. HAPPY NEW YEARS I GUESS_

_**Warnings**: Falling from very large heights, excessive graphic violence_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 16: Skysick | Bloodsick<strong>

* * *

><p>If Tomoya was pissed before, he absolutely flips his shit when Yukie removes my shirt. It takes a few minutes of soothing and explanation before he manages to stop gesticulating wildly at the walls and threatening to file an official reprimand.<p>

Then he starts yelling at_ me_.

"You can't treat your body so poorly!" He chastises, running green chakra along my ribs. It tickles a little, but the pain is going away, which I like. "If you're going to practice with such a volatile ability, you should create a safe training ground!"

"It's not like there's a spare room full of a bunch of mattresses for me to bounce off of. Unless a mental institution is willing to spare one," I mutter.

"Ugh. Cushioned chambers. So _civilian_. You know, in Konoha, they would _never_ let someone become that volatile, or require such isolating treatment. The facilities here have the finest construction, with rounded tables and memory-foam walls. It's very safe and well-organized, there."

"A lot of them like to stick their faces in the hallway, though," Yukie recalls.

"Making funny shapes with your head is perfectly decent self-therapy," Tomoya shoots at him.

Tomoya continues to spend the next few minutes applying sweet, sweet healing chakra to my internal bleeding (which includes occasionally poking me with a small needle and pushing at it with his chakra, which makes the blood squeeze out of the hole before closing up, _ew_), and over time, his expression becomes more and more intense. Eventually, not only are the vicious black splots all gone, but the pink smears of damaged tissue have also been cleaned up. I wish I had learned about Tomoya's healing knowledge sooner, thank _god_. Some of those bruises were bad enough to last _months._

Tomoya doesn't look as relieved as I feel, however. He folds his arm and glares at my stomach, deep in thought. I busy myself wiping off the remaining blood streaks, letting him have his moment.

Finally, he just says "That's odd" and leaves me alone, presumably to go yell at Yaruhiko for trying to beat up a Chuunin-rank ninja.

Yukie stares after Tomoya, then looks down at my beaten stomach. His brow furrows. "How's your chakra levels?"

"Huh?" I perk up. "Fine, I guess. I don't feel like I do when I get Chakra Exhaustion."

Yukie winces, hard. "_Please_ don't tell Tomoya you've ever had Chakra Exhaustion. He'll worry himself into a coma."

I shrug. "It's not _that_ bad."

"...You are way more prone to underestimating things than I would have thought," Yukie wonders.

Then he leaves.

Why do people keep _doing_ that? Can't they say 'bye' and split off naturally, like normal people? Is a simple word of parting really too much to spare?

Petulant and pouting, I go wait by the gate for Hayashi to pick us up. Toro is there, teetering on his heels and occasionally peeking down the street. I wave at him, and he straightens and waves back.

"Not here yet?"

"Nuh-uh. What do you think he'll teach us next?"

"More theory, probably. I can't really tell after one day of training."

Toro's eyes squint as he ponders this. "I'm not really good at studying...Can I ask you and Yaruhiko for help?"

"'Course. That's what non-orphan families do all the time."

Toro grins in open relief. "Ah, good! I was worried!"

After a good ten to fifteen minutes, Hayashi finally deigns to gift us with his presence. I quickly check his expression, but he looks just as positive as he usually does. Maybe a little sleepy. His hand is firmly planted at the back of his head, no different from his usual posture.

Am I..._safe_? This is exactly what happened when he found out about the two faces. It's like nothing ever happened. I wish I knew if it were because he's reporting to someone who thinks it's okay, or if he's actually withholding information for my sake. (Or the sake of his career.)

I make sure he can see me tap my foot impatiently, because if I'm safe, I'm going to make sure he knows that I don't approve of him anyway. Toro just runs forward and tackles Hayashi's leg in a clinging hug.

"H-hey, now!" Hayashi squeaks, surprised and quickly losing balance.

"What are we going to do today? Are we going to do missions first? How much theory do we have to learn? When do we learn how to fight! When do we learn energies? Yaruhiko can use energies now! Do we get a schedule?"

Hayashi finally manages to pry Toro off his leg and plop him down in front of him, though he's gasping with the effort. I cover my face to keep from laughing at him. "Er...today we'll be covering basic theory, yes, but I can draw up a schedule for the next few weeks!"

"Yesssssss!" Toro cheers. Well, at least he's happy.

Hayashi takes us to the residential district where Yuria lives. Her home is a nice, adorable yellow duplex with a slanted roof. Hayashi knocks on the red door and steps back.

There's a loud series of thumps, a yell, and the door opens to reveal a willowy woman with brown hair tied up in a ponytail. I'm guessing this is Yuria's mother. She looks pretty happy to see us.

"Oh, hello, you must be Hayashi-san! Yuria told me all about your little program! She's so excited-"

Yuria pokes her head out from behind her mother's skirts, looking frazzled. "Just wait a second! I'm not done getting ready!"

"That's fine, we can wait," Hayashi soothes.

Yuria disappears in a cacophony of hurried footsteps. Her mother looks after her with an exasperated smile. "We were so happy to find out she was given this opportunity! I'm sure this will be excellent for her future career, thank you so much for considering her!"

"We needed a third guy," says Toro.

Hayashi quickly jabs him in the back and laughs nervously. "Well, she certainly had the drive! I'll make sure she'll _sail_ through the potential classes!"

"If she ranks lower than I do, I'll take her grade level," I say. "In case she needs some help once classes start."

"Oh! Then I will too! I need help a lot..." Toro sheepishly admits.

Yuria's mother chuckles. "I'm glad she's found such good friends to work with! In that case, I'll be relying on you too, okay?"

"Yes!" Me and Toro say in unison, both of us bowing.

After another round of suspicious noises, Yuria erupts from her home wielding an elementary-schooler's bookbag and twice as many flowers in her hair as yesterday.

"Well, you're certainly excited," Tomoya laughs.

"I brought gardening gloves! And a hanky! And a knot-tying book!" Yuria half-shouts.

"Er...I don't think you'll really need all that for civilian missions..." Hayashi hedges, but upon seeing her rosy-cheeked confusion, he quickly amends with "but good job being prepared!"

"Thank you! I'm off!" Yuria waves wildly at her mom, glee obvious on her face.

"Goodbye, Yuria," her mother says, still laughing into her hand.

Hayashi gently guides us down the street until we file into line as a row of little ninja duckings. Toro, of course, leads, Yuria skips after him, and I trail behind at the back of the line, hands in pockets and smiling peacefully. I like studying sometimes, and playing with kids is great, but this feels a little more adventurous, and a little closer to real bonding.

* * *

><p>Naruto finds us, <em>quite suspiciously<em>, directly after we finish our 'missions'.

I assume he was tailing us the whole time, and I also assume Hayashi figured this would happen. After all, he didn't even tell him if we were meeting tomorrow. Perhaps Naruto has already affirmed his position as Terrible Prankster, Master Of The Streets. What an awful kid. I love him.

Either way, the moment Hayashi takes us to a brightly lit alley and says "time for your next lesson", Naruto rolls off a roof and lands heavily in front of us, arms spread wide like his appearance is a masterful performance.

(Yuria claps enthusiastically.)

"What are we learning? A cool jutsu? Super secret kata? The secret to the body's energy?" Naruto says, practically vibrating out of his skin with excitement.

"Actually, I was going to start with basic theory," Hayashi says.

Naruto droops.

"But...It so happens I have a scroll on my person, featuring techniques of the perfect safety level to be learned by a first-year Academy student, and I suddenly have the urge to stretch my body out, just now!" Hayashi says in quite possibly the worst acting voice known to man. He raises his arms in the air in a hilariously fake imitation of a stretch, and pointedly juts his hip (and his side pouch) in Naruto's direction.

Naruto brightens instantly and shoves his hand in the pouch, not even bothering to play along in his eagerness to get at his prize. He pulls out a standard scroll, the kind Tomoya buys at the stationary store in bulk for the orphanage classes. I narrow my eyes suspiciously at it. Whatever it was, Hayashi had scribbled it down on the ninja equivalent of looseleaf.

While Naruto is greedily pouring over his 'scroll of techniques', Hayashi turns to us with a grin. "Alright, so, to review. Do you three know what ninja techniques are formed with?"

Yuria's brow furrows, but Toro shoves his hand in the air and hops up and down on his bum. Hayashi raises his eyebrows at him for an answer. "Uh- uhm- uhm- uhm! The body energy and the head energy!"

"Chakra," I add.

"Both are correct. Chakra is the result of moulding your energies together. Chakra is required to perform Ninjutsu and Genjutsu! Oh- here." Hayashi digs in his bag and pulls out note-taking supplies for us. I obligingly turn around and drag out the bench we've been sitting on until it's far enough from the wall to sit behind, so we can use it as a table. Naruto, noticing the movement, scrambles to join us there. Even though he goes to a classroom almost every day, he seems unreasonably excited to sit at a pretend bench-desk.

"moulding chakra is one of the base requirements of being a ninja. It goes into nearly all of your techniques, from increasing mobility, adding a tighter edge to your aim, adding force to any number of weapons...the possible uses are endless. Every generation has ninja making up new ways to manipulate their chakra, and even more expanding on existing uses. The potential of chakra is limitless!"

Hmm...I raise my hand.

"Yes, Natsume?"

"What if you can't mould chakra?"

He frowns curiously. "Er...That would be quite the detriment. While you _could_ pass the Academy, you definitely wouldn't make it on a battlefield."

"...So what if you can control your energy _without_ moulding it?"

Hayashi visibly flinches. Naruto, Toro, and Yuria are looking at me eagerly, oblivious to the fact that I apparently had presented a pretty illogical idea, based on our teacher's reaction.

"Well...Technically speaking, that's impossible. You build your chakra up in your base - your _hara_ - by mixing your energies in a spiral. All moulding is gravitated in that first step. Skipping it should be-"

"What base?"

Naruto slaps his stomach. "In your tummy! It's like _'nnnnndooooo_' at first, and then it's like '_dodododo_', and then _'vuuuuuuuuwaaaaaaa'_!"

Ugh. This is getting way too complicated. I just wanted to know if I could pull off the same tricks Rock Lee did. I am at least 50% sure he can release chakra without breaking anything, a feat I am beginning to doubt I will ever accomplish. "Uhm...no...I can mould it just fine. I mean _what base_? Where's this _hara_?"

"What..." Hayashi sounds a little faint. "What base?"

"It's what I said."

"You mean you've been..." Hayashi staggers back a step. "Oh noooo. The orphanage is going to kill me. Mirune is going to kill me. _Everyone is going to kill me_."

I raise a questioning eyebrow.

"...Right...hold on." He quickly straightens himself and holds up a handsign, the one I vaguely recall the Nara clan uses to do that shadow thing. (I can't remember what the shadow thing does at the moment, but I recognize those hands.) He lets out a steady breath and looks me in the eye.

"Natsume, why don't you come over to the side and give us an example of moulding chakra, since you know how to do it."

"I know how to mould chatora -like that!" Naruto shouts.

"Chakra," I correct.

"Yeah, that!"

"You can go next. Natsume, try moulding your chakra and releasing it to do one of your 'leaps'. I'll try to see if I can sense the issue."

I shrug. I'm not sure what issue there is to sense, but he's the professional ninja, and I'm the seven-year-old student. I get to my feet and walk leisurely to a position about ten feet away, enough to keep the kids out of my blast radius. I keep my hands in my pockets for now, more out of a desire to look cool in front of Naruto than any actual apathy.

I try doing the spinning effect in my stomach, like Naruto indicated. It works just fine - actually picks up speed a lot faster than trying to do it in my legs or chest - but I don't really sense a difference otherwise. I could have done this in other body parts. Maybe it's just easier to pick up when you start in the chest? Oh well.

I push the rapidly swirling chakra down to my legs, and let it cycle a few times before I get a good sense of timing, like doing a few regular skips on a jump-rope before going double-dutch. When I'm sure I can release it on time, I kneel down, flex my muscles, and release in time with a full-bodied jump.

_This was a grave mistake._

* * *

><p><span>A few things I failed to consider:<span>

1. I had only ever jumped with what I am guessing was my body energy. Chakra is two energy forms at once, with twice the power.

2. Even then, I had to make small accommodations, because jumping with only that half-energy was _too powerful_.

3. The last time I had 'moulded' my chakra, I had only hopped a bit, and it sent me up hard enough that I shook the house and almost gave myself a concussion.

4. _I did not release my chakra when doing this._

5. I AM A HUGE DUMBASS WHO DOESN'T THINK BEFORE I ACT. THAT'S ME.

6. HUGE

7._ FLYING_

8._** DUMBAAAAAASSSSSS**_

* * *

><p>The energy released from under my feet goes straight into the ground, and without little dirt cracks between tiles to diffuse the energy, the ground and walls crack and shatter under the pressure, not unlike the wall did during me and Toro's big outing. The resulting <em><strong>THOOM<strong>_ makes my hearing go numb and distant, so I can't hear what Hayashi is saying in the split-second I'm still close enough to see his mouth moving.

And then I'm gone.

I can see the damage at first, thick black lines snaking over the alley and onto the nearby houses, but the dust kicked up from forming said cracks soon obscures the results of my poorly-considered leap, obscuring both the shattered launch point and the witnesses around it. I can't move my head to look up or around; the wind pressure boring down on me is forcing my head down. Even with my face looking to the ground, I can't get a single breath of air in my lungs, the wind tearing away every half-gasp from my mouth. I'm drowning in _air_.

And then, when I tilt my head just a half-inch forward, my balance is thrown entirely. I'm sent spinning like a pinwheel, so hard and violent that I almost lose my breakfast. After a few more breathless seconds, my ascent slows enough that the wind pressure isn't enough to have me doing a sextuple somersaults per second. I slowly spin to a stop, facing the sky. There's a thin sheet of cloud cover above me, and the blue at the top of the sky seems so _dark_.

I pull my hands up to my face to cup it and take a deep breath. It doesn't get a lot of air into my lungs, but it's at least enough to keep them from burning too badly. Which I might not have to worry about in a few seconds, because I can feel that I'm not moving up as fast as I was before.

The cloud above me comes in closer.

Still climbing, slowly.

Closer.

Still climbing.

Closer.

Climbing.

Closer...

Climbing...

...And _in._

If it was hard to breath with just the wind pressure, it's even harder to when I'm in a big floating puff of water vapour. The already-sparse air is _heavy_ here, and my clothes dampen the moment I enter the misty depths of the cloud. I wince at the sensation - like wet socks, only my entire body.

I can feel the water start to bead on my skin when I start to come down.

I don't want to, I _really_ don't want to, but I know I'm going to have to look down if I want to land properly. Shock-absorbing with chakra doesn't do jack shit if I crack my head on the edge of a roof I didn't see on my way down. Besides, according to Science, I need to land on my feet with my knees bent and the rest of me tucked in, because when it comes to bones in the body to atomize, the legs are the best possible option. Arms? Need those to do basic activities. Spine and skull? Need that to operate my body. Ribcage? Need that to _live_.

Bye-bye legs.

I curl forward, gently urging my body to tilt so I can see how high I've gotten, and **_oh my god no _**

All of Konoha is spread out below me. I must be fifty...no, at least a hundred metres up, probably more at my highest point. I slap my hands over my mouth and take another thin, ragged wheeze. I'm high enough to see most of the city, plus a few training grounds. I haven't ascended past the sphere of the walls yet - I can see that they're still in the far distance on either side of me (though I'm still close to the lip of the front gate). I gasp again when that doesn't get me enough air, gasp, gasp, _gasp_.

It gets harder to breath as I pick up speed, and a chill sets into my damp clothes with the wind ripping through my flesh, fabric, hair, _eye sockets_. My eyes dry out within two seconds of falling, and I turn away from the massive expanse of land below me to take one last long gasp of air to fill my lungs before facing on this death plunge.

I'm not going to die. I have ninja powers. I am surrounded by ninjas. Even if I don't manage to absorb all of the shock? Ninjas! I will break something, at worst.

I am not going to die.

I'm not going to die.

Not going to die.

_**GOING TO DIE.**_

I resist screaming at my steadily increasing speed, the steadily growing city. I'm glad the tallest buildings are bunched up against the Hokage Monument, or else I would have pissed myself from fear - they're high enough to pop out at me, throw off my sense of elevation. Instead, I got a fairly regular range of houses and buildings to plot my landing on. Small, sparsely set buildings. Buildings surrounded by thin alleys. Buildings with sharp edges I can cleave my leg right off if I hit them just right-

**OH FUCK_ I'M GOING TO DIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEE_**

I flare my energy up early, spinning it into chakra as fast as I can, forcing it into my legs, readying a crouch, ready to shatter my ankles for the glory of living. I'm_ freezing_ now, and my teeth would be chattering if they weren't grinding together hard enough to dislodge a few. My shirt is tight and sticking on my skin, but my looser shorts are flapping wildly in the wind, barely audible against the rushing in my ears. My lungs are burning again, but I can't help it.

What's the terminal velocity of a human? About fifty metres-per-second, right? I'm probably not going to hit terminal velocity for a while now, since it's been a minimum of five seconds or so since I started a downward motion, and there's got to be two sets of fifty between me and the city below. I've obviously cleared the first fifty, considering how many details I can pick out now.

I won't hit terminal velocity. It's just going to hurt.

A lot.

(Chakra shock absorbing shock absorbing _shock absorbing_-)

I can see people in detail now, coloured spots on little thin lines around town. Then I can see clothes. Can see hair and skin, can see green, can see the metallic glint of a headband in the afternoon sun-

_**WHAM.**_

Something hits me from the side, and my head whips back from the sudden direction change, giving me whiplash so severe that my neck would have snapped if there wasn't a soft_ something_ there to brace it. Instead, my neck muscles jerk painfully, _really really_ painfully, enough to make me cry out despite my lack of air, and my bowels do a tilt-o-whirl. I am amazed I'm not puking yet.

Then, in the spinning confusion, I hear a heavy_ flap. _Something skitters along the edges of my vision. A lot of things skitter along the edge of my vision. In fact, everything seems blurry, and I feel a bit of dizziness coming on.

A lot of dizziness actually.

The last thing I feel is a pair of arms around me and the sensation of soft fur, and everything goes...

* * *

><p><strong>...?<strong>

* * *

><p>...dark.<p>

The warehouse is quiet. The only source of light is the sunlight doing its best to force its way through the grimy windows, creating a dull glow of orange, full of gloomy shadows that someone could vanish in. Several men stand. A few more creep backwards until they have their backs to something firm. Twenty-two men are cautiously looking around the crate-filled expanse of the building, squinting in the poor light.

"What's this then? What happened to the lights?" One of them shouts aloud.

"Generator must have failed," another suggests. He sounds nervous.

"Shit. What the hell are they doing back there? That generator's brand new! Best in line!"

Nineteen men nervously reach for their weapons. They've worked too hard for this. It's the best haul yet, and they've only got a few more miles to go until they're out of the Land of Fire and into the Land of Grass. Then they're safe to proceed to the Land of Stone, and don't have to worry about any damn lightbulbs going out, or the threat of ninjas in the dark, or civilians questioning why there's a string of huge hauls being carted through their small villages, one after the other.

They all generally agree that the boss was a bit...less than clever, trying to move all of this merchandise at once. Apparently, something spooked him.

_Konoha_ spooked him.

They're poking their noses where they don't belong. Sniffing them out. _Investigating_.

Investigating completely false claims, obviously. They've never sold their_ human_ pieces to the ninja villages. It's too risky. But it looks like ninjas are a pain in the ass everywhere you go; it's not hard to assume that Iwa was poaching their sales, plucking their fresh labour from the mills and mines and taking them into the fold, right out in the open. Bunch of trash, ninjas are, but they aren't scared. Not one bit.

These seventeen men are going to defend their cargo with their lives.

There's a strangled gurgle off to the right, behind a towering row of crates. Sixteen men whip over to the source of the noise, weapons raised. "Who's there!?"

There's a wet _thump_ to the left. One of the men throws a small knife in the general direction of the sound, but it lands harmlessly into the planks of another crate.

Chains rattle. Wood creaks. Wind whistles through the cracks in the filthy glass windows.

It's so hard to see any of the crates, let alone the features of the fifteen armed men.

But one of them is better. One of them has experience, has practices with this so-called energy whatsit, thank-you-very-much, and prides himself on his ability. He's good, good enough to move his head forward just enough to dodge the blade that almost takes off his head.

"_Oohh_," says a creaking voice not belonging to any of the fourteen men in the warehouse.

The energy-proficient man staggers back. For some reason, his gut is twisting in fear.

Upon seeing the intruder, one of the men finally has the presence of mind to throw a knife up at one of the windows, letting in a brilliant streak of sunlight that pushes back the shadows, lighting up the drifting dust mights and the black fabric of the interloper's hooded cloak.

The sunlight glints off a rusty blade, shining white around the sharpened edges, glittering with streaks of blood. A blade being held by said interloper.

"You caught me~!" The rough, high-pitched glass-and-gravel voice squeals.

Fourteen men let out a panicked cry, oblivious to the eight missing amongst their numbers. All of them attack, with throwing knives and shuriken, and the closest swing with swords and heavy metal bats. It's an explosion of movement all happening in a single moment, confusion and adrenalin and rage and pent-up nerves from_ fucking ninjas_ being released on what appears to be, in fact, a_ fucking ninja_.

The cloaked figure responds with inhuman speed in turn. It leaps up, spinning into a smooth, elongated arc, the blade sending spatters of blood across the floor as it swings around and comes down against a blade.

The man defending against the attack doesn't counter fast enough. With a hum of disappointment, the cloaked figure slides the sword up, slicing off his thumb. The blade arcs up before he can react, and is driven into his left eye socket. A sword comes down against the figure's leg in the process, but they simply tilt their foot back and use it to smack the sword _up_, causing the attacker to stumble. The cloaked figure yanks their sword from the skull of their most recent victim and brings it down on the person behind him, lopping off his arm.

Twelve men flinch. The cloaked figure drops the rusty blade with a sigh.

"I just don't _get_ Kenjutsu," they sigh. "_Booooring._"

A scream erupts halfway through the fading, whispy notes of _'-oooring'_, marking two men attempting to crush the hooded figure between their bats. The figure cackles and jumps up gently, grabs a bat with each hand in mid-air, and uses the weight to support a spin-kick with both feet, taking out one of them. They drop one of the bats and swing the other into their grip, testing the weight by slamming it into the second man's hip with an audible CRACK. Surprisingly, the force of the swing sends the figure flying.

It is then that the men realize, with creeping horror, that this person cannot be any higher than four feet.

"Don't have the arms for this," the hooded intruder remarks sadly, dropping the weapon with cartoonish reluctance.

Four more charge.

The increase in number actually seems to work - the figure struggles to avoid the multitude of attacks, barely managing to get a few kicks and punches into the fray. While the - it can't be a child, but it clearly is, there's no other explanation - the _child_ may hit hard, may hit like a _monster_, they're not very coordinated, and are prone to stumbling at inopportune moments. The pale skin of their exposed limbs are already showing signs of bruising and scratches from the scuffle.

Blood-soaked as they may be, they're a clumsy child. It doesn't take a lot to kill that.

"Oh, hell," a man whimpers in the distance.

He's found the pile of bodies.

The cloaked figure laughs at the momentary distraction and drives a finger into the eye socket of the nearest assailant. The scream jolts the one behind them, giving them enough leeway to dodge the swing of a kunai and kick the man right in the family jewels.

The men are used to fighting tooth and nail, used to thrashing violently against an enemy, but they aren't used to this sort of bloodshed. They aren't used to spilled blood and sadistic pleasure in rending flesh, a hysterical yet crystal-clear edge to each movement, making up for lack of coordination with pure ruthless _blood-lust_.

There is one man left in the warehouse.

The man stumbles back, wheezing in horror. The cloaked figure is approaching slowly, hampered by a limp, an invisible injury that makes the child gasp in pain every four or five steps. He isn't sure if he wants to take advantage of this weakness, if he can risk it. This is...

This is a _monster_.

"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU?!" He screams at the slowly approaching..._creature_. **_Thing_**.

"Me?" The facsimile of a child giggles. "What am _I_?"

It stops to lean down and pick up the rusty blade it had dropped only a minute before, turns the bloody weapon in its hands as if admiring the crimson shimmering over flaking brown.

The man swallows thickly.

His back hits the hard line of a row of crates. He can hear the calls of their hired hands, but while he knows they'll be able to kill whatever this creature masquerading as a child is, they won't make it in time to save him.

The cloaked creature stands tall and brings the blade up, up, up above its head, readying a strike. Its hood slides back slightly, revealing wide, slitted yellow eyes, a wild bloodthirsty look set deep within them.

"I'm the demon lord~!"

_**THWUMP.**_

* * *

><p><em>AN: "PCHOOOOOOOOOOOOO" ~Alex, probably, again<em>

_Arc 2, kicking off with this horrifying 1.3-metre ball of condensed bloodthirst! We'll be back to Alex in a hot second, but we need to establish this little nightmare is a thing. (Aaaand adding them to the character poll for kicks.)_

_Arc 1 was character and objective building, on the most part, and I'll be doing my best to introduce more plot to Arc 2 - specifically, relationship building with the Observation Mission and...[gestures vaguely at Demon Lord]_


	17. Anti-Recovery

_**Content warnings**__: Dissociating, slight derealization_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 17: Anti-Recovery<strong>

* * *

><p>When I open my eyes, I'm staring at a white panelled ceiling.<p>

I blink groggily, first to adjust my eyes, and then to clear the sleep caked to them. My body feels ironed onto the bedding I'm laying on, and it takes all of my willpower to drag a hand up to my face and rub my eyes. Everything feels a thousand miles away. Unfocused. Hazy.

I run a hand over the bedding, clutch the sheets. They're soft, cotton. I flex my hand a few times before letting go and switching targets to my blanket. It's thin, but has surprising heat retention, and it takes me what feels like hours to realize that this is the same type of blanket that Hayashi's cot had, back in the outpost.

My body twitches involuntarily, and I try to keep myself from falling back to sleep. Right. Where am I?

It's unpleasant, but I pull myself up into a sitting position and look blearily around the room. Light green walls, white curtains, a metal cart and an end table with a clipboard on it.

I rub my eyes again and crawl to the end of the bed to look at the clipboard. It looks like a form, with quick notes written in pen.

_...Symptoms of cellular decay from repeated chakra exhaustion (effects appear short-term)_

_...major damage in the temporal lobe_

_...slight decay of prefrontal lobe (reversable; see Matsumura's therapy schedule)_

_...most damage is repairable, but without the Spiritual Cycling Area, patient is permanently disabled with no hope of... _

I place the clipboard down and lean back so I'm sitting on my legs. My head feels like a cotton ball. I scratch at the coin on my wrist, and fumble with it when it pops off.

Then I pause, touch my forehead, where Ghost is still sitting.

Right. I fell.

I fell from the clouds. I could have used this, but I was scared and too focused on using my own abilities to think about a coin that wasn't even on my body at the time. (Or was it? Aren't they technically the same body?)

It's really quiet in here.

I put the coin back on and slide off the bed, and nearly trip over my own feet. For the first time since I woke up in that forest, I feel too _small_. It's not as bad as it was back then, mainly because Natsume is taller and a little more meaty, but it still throws me for a loop. It takes a moment to adjust, and it makes me want to heave.

I look around the room again.

Hospital.

I pad over to the door and slide it back. I'm met with a sudden explosion of sound, beeping and yelling and distant conversations and footsteps. I close it again, and the room goes dead quiet again. My heart starts pounding, as if catching up with all the movement I am suddenly doing. I rub my eyes again, even though they aren't sticking anymore.

I take a deep breath and slide the door back again, this time taking a few steps into the hallway beyond. Unlike the warm tiles in my room, the floor out here is cold against my bare feet. I look around aimlessly, not entirely sure what I'm expecting to find. I don't like the room though, so I continue walking around.

I wander through the halls, unnoticed by the doctors and nurses and patients passing me, and I begin to wonder if I had activated Ghost at some point after all. It's weird, not being noticed without that being my intention. I don't like it. I feel like I don't exist.

I wander past an open door into a small grassy courtyard. I go to what I feel is the middle, ignoring the people around me, and sit down. It's giving me a headache to move, and the sun on my head feels more solid than anything here. It feels like everything is coming to me all in holes, like there's a film over bits and pieces, and I don't know if I'll even be able to go back to my hospital room because I don't know how I got here anymore.

I rub my eyes again.

"Natsume?"

I flinch at my name (my body's name) (my alias?) (fake name) (my name), and turn to see a woman with bandages over her eyes and some of her long hair in a small bun. I stare at her, trying to remember if I know her. No, right? I don't know her?

"Natsume, come back inside. You just went through some invasive scans, and you may be feeling disoriented."

I scratch my head. I feel there's some sort of context here, on the tip of my tongue, but I just stop dead at 'in a hospital courtyard after waking up'. Hadn't I already remembered what was going on? Why is it so hard to think?

"Natsume, please come inside. We need to finish your checkup, okay?"

She holds her hand out to me. I stare at the whorls on her fingertips, the details, the depth of her fingers, the blurring-clearing grass underneath the hovering hand. She has to physically grab me before I realize I had forgotten to actually take it.

The woman without eyes takes me to a room with an examination table. I hop on it and wait for instructions. She takes out a scroll, unfurls it on the desk, and releases the seal drawn in it, spawning a pile of papers. The top one has a photocopy of a brain on it. She takes it and places it next to me. The paper underneath it is also a photocopy of a brain.

"Okay, now, I'm going to put my hand on your head, and I want you to try molding your chakra, can you do that?"

I hold out my hand and try cycling chakra through it, but I'm too dazed to really manage. My body energy flows through it instead.

"I don't think so."

"It's okay if it's poorly molded, I just need you to activate the region of your brain responsible for chakra management. There we are..." She forms a few hand seals and places one hand on my head and the other on the scan of the brain. I try to mold it again, this time in my stomach, and it does a pathetic little twirl before dissipating.

"Good, you're doing great. And again..."

I do it three or four more times, staring sightlessly at the bottom of her chin. She seems satisfied each time, even though I can't mold anything properly. My eyes trail down to her other hand, the one on the brain, and I'm slightly surprised to see that it's glowing with chakra - green and blue covering the paper and lighting up on certain parts of the brain. One part of the brain is really bright. I'm guessing that's where chakra is made.

"Excellent. Let me finish three more copies. I heard you can manipulate your body energy too. Can you do that for me?"

I nod and move the energy easily through my body. She takes a new piece of paper and starts copying chakra onto it. I don't know why.

"One more time..."

* * *

><p>She leaves me alone in my room when she's done and takes all her papers with her, so I go back to sleep. When I wake up, Yukie is sitting at my bedside, peeling apples. He's wearing that dotera again. The one with the Wakahisa clan symbol on it.<p>

Three dots, a ring.

"Hey," he greets.

I pull back into focus. Right. I fell.

I had outputted the most chakra I've ever used in my entire (short) life, so I must have blacked out from chakra exhaustion on the way down. The scanning thing was probably to figure out why I keep doing that.

I sit up and look at the table at the foot of my bed, but the clipboard is gone. I frown. I can't remember what was on it. Notes on my condition? Brain stuff?

"You've been out for four days," Yukie continues.

I open my mouth to speak, but it doesn't feel_ right_ to use words. It's hard. I clench my teeth and try to clear the fog out of my brain, try to re-organize my thoughts. I go through words and phrases that I want to say but my brain doesn't want to produce until something finally makes it all the way to my mouth.

"In the hospital?"

"Yeah. You destroyed three buildings and blacked out about a meter and a half from the ground. If Mirune hadn't seen you go up, you probably would have smashed right through to sea level."

"Mirune?"

"She's a friend of ours- me and Tomoya, I mean. Really good sensor-nin. You're lucky she's the one who spotted you."

I make a non-committal whine in the back of my throat and lean forward to rub my eyes with my knees. Yukie finishes peeking the apples and begins cutting them in slices.

I sigh. "For four days?"

"Yeah. You feeling alright?"

I go for 'fine' but it doesn't make it down, so I manage with an "Un."

"Good, good. You weren't allowed any visitors until yesterday, so I was thinking, like, shit, are you in a coma? But no, you look great." He takes the plate of apple slices and places it on my lap. "Eat up."

"Thanks."

I eat the apple slices in silence. Yukie watches me impassively, not urging or avoidant, just there. I finish without either of us talking and give him the plate back.

He takes it as a cue to speak up, this time with a lighter mood. "Kiyo and Toro already visited. Tomo-chan was going to visit today too, but if you're fine to go..."

"I don't know if I'm fine," I shrug.

"Well, whatever. I can pick up your paperwork when the doctors give their diagnosis, so you can leave if you're ready."

"Okay."

"I'll buzz them in." Yukie gets up and leaves the room. I hear a distant buzzing sound, and he returns to hang by the doorway and peek down the halls. I glance around my room. It doesn't look any different than it did when I first woke up, but now I'm actually noticing things like the open window, the corkboard above my head, the metal backing of the bed I'm laying on, the heart monitor stashed in the corner next to a long table for whatever reason.

"...What happened? In the four days?"

"Oh, lots of things. Let's see...Kiyo and Hiori got_ razed_ by the Hokage for not consulting with a doctor despite knowing you use chakra weird and the mystery jutsu might have something to with, you know, your _brain_. Kiyo is in the mission doghouse for a whole year, and Hiori is put on this super dangerous S-rank mission or something. I don't know. I'm just amazed they didn't lose their jobs."

"Ooh."

"Right? Anyway, that Uzumaki kid is circling the orphanage like a vulture. I'm tempted to let him in just to make him stop. It was making the guards skittish the first day, but now that they're pulled, he's free to park his little butt by the walls and wait. You'd think he'd get bored or something, but _no_."

I perk up. "The guards were pulled?"

"Oh yeah, that's the best part. Apparently, like, a week ago, those black market guys that were in charge of the human trafficking operation we've been tracking were all slaughtered. Like _pigs_. We got the message about it only two days ago. Everyone's freaking out, the people who were in charge of the investigation are now shipping the slaves back to their villages, and meeting up with the recovery teams to sort out what's going to happen to the little ones. We haven't even finished setting up Independence documents for our kids yet, and it's already over. No one knows what the hell is going on."

"You haven't finished setting up the Independents?" The words are coming easier now.

"It takes a long time. Sorting out the legal stuff, apartments, the actual process of moving them, a schedule to help them stay organized, a grocery subscription, furniture...It took like, a week and a half to get me out of the orphanage, I think."

"Then why is Naruto already moved out of _his_ orphanage?"

"They kicked him out. No one likes that kid."

I glare at him.

He straightens. "_Exceeeept_ me, because I'm cool, and slightly desperate for your approval?"

I cross my arms and move my glare to the ends of my toes. "If he was tossed out, that means he wouldn't have much to go on. He's probably surviving on ramen and only has a table and a bed to his name. That's terrible."

"Eh. I'll buy him some more chairs, sometime. Since he spends all his time _standing around the orphanage_. Toro too. They're just slinking about the gate, chasing off potential child adopters. I think Toro is doing it because he's mad that Yaruhiko isn't allowed to play with him for a month because he bit a chunk out of that asshole cop."

"Why _are_ they doing that?" I ask, now curious.

Yukie scoffs. "They're waiting for _you_, dummy!"

My mind trips over this. It wasn't what I expected. "Why?"

Yukie looks at me oddly, scratching his chin with his mouth pulled at the edges, not up or down. I wait for his response, even though I feel like I might already know the answer. He confirms it when he places both his hands down on his legs and leans forward.

"Because you're their friend, obviously."

My head goes blank.

People are resources. People I care about are resources I keep close, for social reasons, for protection reasons, for reasons like building a future and a support net, for creating something to look forward to each day. Everyone does this. It's okay to do this.

I don't typically care if they care for me. I like it when I'm a resource. I like it when they find ways to rely on me, bring themselves closer to me because that means I'm_ important_ and I have _more access_ to them. Toro being a younger brother to me means that he's the closest, that he's so close that I could use him for anything.

I can create dependencies. If I care about them, I'll obviously want them to feel better. If I link them to myself, we become more efficient together. I can care about people and do this. Everyone does this. It's okay to do this.

Making friends is barely a part of this. I didn't think this was something important. I didn't bring it into the picture. It wasn't necessary. Making friends isn't necessary. Friends will stick to you instead of listening to you. Friends are irregular and dependent and independent at the same time. They're too shallow.

I never needed something like that.

_I never had something like that._

"Natsume?" Yukie asks softly.

I reach up to my face and wipe away the tears streaming down my face. I try to say something to dismiss them, but all that comes out is a broken sob. I gasp the air back in and try again, and again, but all that's coming out is small wails. Hiccups. Trembling gasps.

And then I begin cry.

The woman with the bandaged eyes comes in. She stops in the middle of the room, and then rushes over to Yukie to rap him over the head. Yukie squawks in protest, but she's already placing a soothing hand on my back, rubbing circles into my back and giving me gentle words of encouragement. I can barely see her through my tears.

_You're their friend._

How can that be?

I don't even know if they're_ my_ friends.

* * *

><p>Yukie is escorted out to talk to the doctors, and the woman takes out two scrolls while I try to calm myself. They are, once again, full of stacks of paper. She turns to me with a smile. Her head is tilted slightly down, a small indication of her blindness.<p>

"Hello, Natsuke-kun. I'm Yorukawa Mirune, a friend of your caretaker. I'm the one doing your Chakra Pattern Analysis procedures."

I wipe the snot from my nose. "My what?"

"I track the movement and strength of your chakra in certain regions of your body and your brain, and create a diagnosis based on the physical scans you had previously. This tells us if you have any mental disorders that affect how your chakra is used, as well as how your body is dealing with brain damage."

Something sparks at the back of my head, a dim memory of a clipboard. "So what did you find?"

"This is going to sound scary, so I'm going to start off with saying that your brain will eventually heal just fine. By the time you reach puberty, most of the damage will be gone." She takes a piece of paper off the top of each pile and places the first one in front of me on the bed. It looks like a completely average picture of a scanned brain. "This is the brain of an average seven-year-old."

Then she slides me the second piece of paper. It's a brain too, almost identical to the previous one, but this one has a dark patch around the front and bottom. In the bottom patch, there's a large chunk of pure black.

My stomach churns.

"What is this?"

"From what we understand based on your symptoms, these are the effects of a large stroke. Amnesia, inattention, and impulse control can be triggered by a stroke; in fact, strokes are the most common triggers for amnesia. The motor functions of your brain are almost completely unaffected, but there are other concerns based on the damage in this scan, such as your sense of coordination and ability to hear." She runs her finger along a small blurry line on the scan. "You might also have trouble feeling sensations in detail. We'll have to experiment over time."

I stare at the sheet, unable to respond.

"The damage seems to clearly be a result of a stroke, but I've never seen it patterned like this. The doctors are saying it was induced by a surge of destructive chakra to the brain. You're lucky to be alive, let alone with perfect motor function."

Distantly, I can hear myself say "What's that black spot?"

"That's the Spiritual Cycling Area. Your mind energy is created, controlled, and cycled from this part of the brain." She folds her arms and sighs. "It's been completely obliterated. The tissue associated with it has all long since died and rotted. You have a hole in your brain."

My nerves are screaming. "But I can mold chakra."

"Yes. It's unstable, but you can use it just fine. Luckily, you're just disabled, not completely incapable of producing it. There's also the damage to your prefrontal lobe, here," she gestures to the dark area at the front of the brain, "The cells here seem to have begun to decay at some point, but the process was slowed to a stop. It's started healing only recently. Here, let me show you your chakra scans."

She hovers her hands over the papers, and it takes me a moment to realize that she can't see them, and must be relying on a _different_ sense to identify them. Maybe a number written in chakra, or something. (But she had used these scans to copy what my brain was doing. Are the entire scans done in chakra ink?)

She gives me one of them. "This is the average chakra activity of an unconscious seven-year-old."

The scan is covered in a warm, glowing green, with a burst of blue around the section she called the Spiritual Cycling Area. The blue is also steadily glowing around the back of the brain, while the green is more focused around the part of the brain just above the SCA.

"This is _your_ chakra activity when unconscious."

The sheet is so green that I can barely see the actual picture underneath. The SCA is a vicious, neon shade of teal, and the only visible sign of blue is around the back of the brain. Even then, it's splotchy and more of a tinted stain. The green is the most vivid around the front of the brain, with a deep shade that completely obscures it.

"H...How?"

"You've lost the ability to subconsciously control your chakra; this is one of the process the SCA is in charge of. As a result, your cells have been flooded with chakra. I doubt you'll ever be able to suppress it. The typical person has a balance of 65% physical energy and 35% mental energy, but you're pushing 95% versus 5%."

I open and close my mouth. My eyes are so wide that I can feel them sting with dryness. She takes the paper out of my hands and replaces it with another. My fingers barely twitch.

"This is called a Deep-Coil scan. It measures the chakra activity in your coils specifically. This is an average seven-year-old attempting to mold their chakra."

There are two pictures on the paper; one of a brain, the other of a hand. The brain's SCA and the back region of the brain are a bright, brilliant blue. The top and front of the brain are more vividly green. On the picture of the hand, there's a system of veins, and they're giving off a soft yellow glow, seeping out to encircle the very edges of the body. When I turn the paper, they glitter.

"And this...this is what _your_ chakra looks like."

The entire brain is, once again, bright green, but the blue stains are missing from the back of the brain. On the other hand, the SCA is actually blue this time, ringed by a circle of teal that form a distinct border. It almost hurts to look at the front of the brain.

The hand is florescent yellow-green. The coils are thin, barely-visible threads of dim gold.

"That's not right," I say faintly.

"Your chakra is uncontrolled, which means it isn't cycling through your coils. It's just being dumped into your entire body without discrimination. Chakra exhaustion can take up to two weeks to recover from, if you drain it enough, but when _you_ get chakra exhaustion, your untouched chakra reserves just dump back into your cells the moment your body runs out, effectively working in reverse. Instantaneous regeneration, without damaging your body. The doctors are in love with you."

"But...but I thought I..."

I already figured that I was stripping my cells the first time around. It hadn't occurred to me that I never _stopped_ stripping my cells. I must have blacked out after reaching for that branch because the chakra hadn't started saturating in my cells yet.

I feel like I'm going to throw up. How did my body get so _wrong_?

"Now, your chakra is uncontrolled, but some process are automatic, like how it preserves an imprint of your body. Your Spiritual Cycling Area is technically missing, but your chakra is simulating the process as it remembers it - that's why you're still able to produce mental energy. Unfortunately, it didn't copy your SCA very _well_, hence the irregularities in your energy. You also seem to have a massive amount of physical energy. We don't know why, but it's picking up the slack."

"So...my brain...has been copied...?"

"If you remove every single cell from an organ, you'll still have an intact organ made of connective tissue. Similarly, if the cells in your body rot away, your chakra will still remember where they were, and what they were doing."

"Then...if it's not copying it good enough..."

She sighs. "...You're going to be like this for the rest of your life. You're permanently incapable of Genjutsu and Ninjutsu, and there's no way to resolve the chakra flooding issue."

My hands are trembling.

"Your chakra has preserved the other damaged regions of the brain, fortunately. You should recover your senses within a year, and your prefrontal lobe should be recovered within three to four years. The SCA will grow back in around seven to eight years."

"I can't do Jutsu?" My voice is trembling with the threat of a new wave of tears.

Mirune sighs and runs a hand through my hair. "It's fine. A lot of new abilities come with this, and you can get special training to offset the inconveniences of your disability. Just think; because you have so much energy in your body and such a huge mental energy deficiency, Ninjutsu and Genjutsu are _less effective_ against you."

It's enough to work myself into thinking in positives, to think in terms of what I can use, how I can build it up, what I already have... "Why did I do that jumping thing? How did I do that without molding chakra?"

"Oh, that's the fun part." She takes another pair of papers from her piles and gives them to me. It's another picture of a hand, but one is speckled with white, while the other is stained with blue and gold. "Chakra is typically controlled with mental energy. _You_, on the other hand, control your physical energy with the electrical signals associated with motor functions. Once again, the doctors _love_ you. You're some kind of miracle of science."

That_ is_ weird. Must be something to do with living in a world without chakra. "Can I weaponize this?"

"You can safely force your chakra from your cells without hurting yourself, yes. I suggest you specialize in Taijutsu if you want to further your career."

"Am I going to be okay?"

"Perfectly healthy. The only problem is that you don't have the mental energy required to form the tempered chakra required for Ninjutsu and Genjutsu. There's also the issue with how quick you are to hit Chakra Exhaustion. Your body knows enough to leave the chakra in your body alone, but if it hits the lip too quickly, and your heart stops for even a moment...You'll die."

"I'll...?"

"The heart is where the chakra cycles, and works as a sort of magnet and storage bank. Without it, your brain's memory of the SCA will falter, and your chakra will destroy you from the inside."

I feel faint.

"It's not just a miracle you survived. It's a miracle you haven't killed yourself in the meantime."

A dizzy spell, a tunnel of spiralling half-colours, and I'm embraced by that now-familiar black.

* * *

><p>"Jeez! You're way too blunt!"<p>

"You've claimed Natsume-kun has a very adult understanding of situations such as this. I had assumed that would expand to situations such as this."

"_You do not tell a seven-year-old point-blank they're permanently disabled and on the edge of death itself!_"

"In the war-"

"There has not be a war for thirteen years! You were _four years old_ in the war! No excuses!"

I blink awake. The familiar tiles of the ceiling greet me. It's starting to piss me off.

When I turn my head, I see that the two arguing are Mirune and Hayashi. Yukie is nowhere to be found.

"Well, I used a nice and friendly suffix to his name..."

"That isn't enough to blunt it, dumbass!"

I slowly get up to a sitting position. The shifting of the fabric alerts the two people of my waking status, and Hayashi rushes to my side.

"Natsume-kun! You do know that whatever went wrong, it's definitely not my fault, right?!"

"Isn't it entirely your fault...?" Mirune mumbles to herself.

Bemused, I reach out and pat Hayashi on his mussy-haired head. "It's okay. I don't blame you. Everyone makes mistakes."

"Natsume...!" Hayashi flings his arms around me and squeezes me to his chest, forcing all the air out of my lungs. I grunt in his grip. Mirune's eyes and eyebrows are obscured by her bandages, but I get the distinct feeling that the look she's aiming at Hayashi is one of disgust.

"...Well, whatever. I have to file a report to the Chief Physician. You go ahead and molest children."

Hayashi releases his grip on me to glare at her. "I am not _molesting_ them!"

"Slinking around the orphanage...stealing away poor infant Yukie-chan to do goodness knows what..."

"I took him to barbeque! He asked me to!_ He said it was okay!_"

"Over and over...who knows what horrific misdeeds you perpetrated," Mirune continues dreamily, completely ignoring Hayashi's protests. "Perhaps you have even..._partaken in adult graffiti illustrations_? I heard men are quite illustrated in such things...but to think Hayashi-san would..."

"Jeez! Who asked you to stick around, go file your report or whatever!" He flings a vindictive finger at her. She tilts her head, as if to dodge the accusation firing from it.

"...I could take my time...I'm not sure you can be trusted, really..."

"_Leave_!"

I feel a laugh bubbling in my chest, and I hold a hand to my mouth to keep it from bursting out. Mirune leaves with a glamorous hair flip, and Hayashi turns back to me, grumbling and folding his arms in the perfect image of a childish pout.

"She's just mad that I took up all of Yukie's time. She was really clingy when she was little, you know? And Yukie was her little brother. So she's aaaalways nagging me."

I rub the smile away and try to look serious again. "Did she go to the orphanage?"

He shakes his head. "No, she was adopted by a civi family. She never had much interest in the orphanage, but she was all over Yukie and Tomoya...the girl is way too detail-oriented."

"Why?"

Hayashi blinks. "Ah...well...it's kind of like..."

He leans back in the stool by the bed and tilts his head back to look at the ceiling, deep in thought. I blink owlishly at him, not sure what to expect. He lets out a soft groan, closes his eyes, and brings his head back down with a more grim expression.

"I think it's because...in the end, we all got betrayed together."

The birds outside call to each other.

The sun sends streaks of light through my window, accompanied by wind that plays with the thin, translucent curtains.

Above the door, a clock ticks.

Hayashi does not move, frozen in an image of resignation.

"Betrayed?"

* * *

><p><em>AN: It's Alex Gets Massive Flaws: The Chapter! <em>

_This whole section on brain damage and chakra preservation is just a fancy way of exploring why Sasori can operate without brain tissue. The thing with a cell-less organ is true, by the way; google 'ghost heart'. _

_(The last chapter concluded with a bit of mood whiplash, sorry. The intention was to cleanly divide Alex falling and the hospital scene, as it's a precursor to a shift to a darker mood and a different topical focus, and I felt putting the violence somewhere later on would make everything tooooo grimdark. I also didn't want to cut the violence altogether, because I won't technically have an opportunity to showcase how wild the character is later on. Writing is haaaaaaaaaard)_

_(Also, to note: Alex has now been in the Naruto universe for 40 days! Man, they work fast.)_

_**Edit**: Added art of Hayashi and Mirune's relationship in a nutshell onto my profile!_


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